The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

That Would Be Wrong

Chapter III.

Kristie Blake giggled vacantly as she followed Chester Thomas through the door.

She was aware of her surroundings, but they didn’t really interest her. The beautiful young woman’s attention was elsewhere, on the pretty sparkling lights which played before her mind’s eye. Only the lights really mattered, the lights and the voice which told her things. It didn’t even matter whose voice it was, or what it told her to do. She did what it said.

Chester smiled as he glanced over his shoulder. Over the past several weeks, he’d found excuses to “run into” Kristie repeatedly. Each time, he’d brought out the hypnotic pendant. Each time, Kristie had gone under helplessly. And each time, he’d made suggestions which strengthened his hold over her. By now, she actually seemed to enjoy going under for him.

Perhaps, he mused, that was because of the sex. They’d had sex a half-dozen times by now—always while she was in trance, of course—and maybe, at some primitive level, her mind now associated being hypnotized with sexual pleasure. It surely helped that he’d used suggestion to enhance the experience, pushing her mind to generate more and more powerful sensations.

He’d made special arrangements for this evening. As he stepped inside with Kristie in tow, a pair of female voices erupted in protest.

“Hey!” cried Mandy. “What’s going on?”

“Yeah,” Debra chimed in. “What’re you doing here, nerd?” Spotting her suitemate, she added, “And why’s Kristie with you, anyway?”

Chester laughed. “She’s my girlfriend, don’t you remember? Kristie, say ‘Yes, Chester darling.’ Say it like you mean it.”

Yes, Chester darling,” Kristie cooed.

The other girls’ eyes bugged. “What the fuck is going on?” demanded Debra.

“Nothing special,” Chester replied confidently. “I just showed her the pretty shiny pendant.”

The blonde and the brunette gasped in unison. As Chester watched, their eyes widened and emptied.

He laughed. They were out of it, drifting deeper and deeper as he watched, caught by the trigger phrase he’d installed when he’d first met them and which he’d reinforced on a couple of occasions since then.

And that wasn’t even the best part. The two of them were wearing a uniform he’d dreamed up, matching skintight black ankle-length satin pants with red side stripes, white spike heels, and nothing at all on top. Neither one showed the slightest awareness that there was anything odd about the way they were clothed.

He’d gotten the idea a couple of weeks ago, after the last time he’d visited Kristie’s place. He’d programmed Debra and Mandy to buy the clothes, put them away and forget about them until he reminded them.

“When I do,” he had told the glassy-eyed coeds, “it will mean I’m coming over for a visit that evening. You’ll arrange to be home, and you’ll dress up the way I’ve told you, and you’ll wait. You’ll be fully awake and aware, but you won’t remember that I’m coming, and neither of you will notice anything strange about the way either of you is dressed. Do you understand, and will you obey?”

“Yes, Chester sir,” Mandy had breathed.

“Yes, Chester my master,” had been Debra’s reply.

Now here they were. It got him hard just thinking of them coming back to their suite, changing calmly into outfits they would never have ordinarily worn—outfits which would have gotten them arrested on the street—and then going about their business as if nothing strange was going on at all, and all on his command.

“Go into the bedroom, Kristie,” Chester commanded. As the redhead, still giggling, moved to obey, he turned for a moment to the others and said, “Mandy, Debra. You’ll do anything I say, won’t you?”

“Yes, Chester sir.”

“Yes, Chester my master.”

“Good girls. Then follow me. There’s something I want you to do.” He walked toward the bedroom door with the blonde and her dark-haired friend following. Before going in, he spoke to them again.

Chester stepped through the doorway and looked back over his shoulder. Yes, the two were following orders. He laughed aloud.

Some time later, as Chester thrust into her, Kristie grabbed convulsively at him and tightened the grip of her muscular thighs around his flanks. “Yes! Chester! Darling!“ she shrieked as her body shook and flexed beneath him. “Yes! Yes! Oh! Chester! Darling! Yessss!“ Her legs scissored him a final time and he came, squeezed like a tube of toothpaste, exploding into her as stars and pinwheels of light blossomed behind his tightly-squeezed eyelids.

The slender blond youth felt his muscles turn to water. He collapsed atop the cushioning flesh of the bespelled babe beneath him. His eyes closed and he let himself drift, basking in the afterglow as Kristie caressed his hair and murmured nonsense. It felt wonderful.

As he floated in post-orgasmic warmth, Chester smiled. Awake, Kristie still despised him—but that only made what happened when she was in trance more fun. Under the pendant’s power, she belonged to him completely.

The redhead stirred and tried to speak.

Chester stilled her. “Rest, Kristie,” he decreed. “You’re so relaxed now, so tired, pleasantly tired, sleepy.”

“Yes, Chester darling. . . .” the girl agreed drowsily. Her arms fell to her sides, and she yawned. “Relaxed. Sleeeeepy. . . .” Her half-lidded eyes closed completely.

Ever so gently, Chester detached himself from her. He collected his clothes from where they lay and got dressed, Then, standing over the sweat-soaked, smiling beauty lying naked amid the tangled sheets of her bed, he spoke again.

“Kristie, I’m leaving now,” he told her. “You’ll go to sleep for a little while, Kristie, and when you wake up, you’ll act and think the way you usually do, and you’ll remember only that your boyfriend came over and you had sex, wonderful sex. As always, you’ll forget it was me, Kristie, forget I was here at all, Kristie.” He added a few more instructions, then turned on his heel and left the bedroom.

As he emerged, he ducked his head slightly and grinned. As he’d commanded, Mandy and Debra flanked the entrance to Kristie’s room, standing stiffly upright. Mandy’s left arm and Debra’s right were raised, forming a peak in the doorway. They looked like someone’s erotic fantasy of door guards—and of course, they were: his.

He paused for a moment. After that first visit, when he’d left Kristie’s two suitemates to be suddenly discovered bare-chested when the girls all woke up after he left, there’d been a huge catfight, just as he’d hoped. He had asked Kristie about that the next time he’d put her under, and with the innocent frankness of the totally trance-bound, she had told him every detail. He hadn’t done it again; it had just been an impulse, after all—but should he this time?

No, he finally decided. Why take chances? Too many weird incidents like that one and the girls might start asking the wrong sorts of questions. He could try programming them not to, but he was reluctant to implant too many suggestions that interfered with their waking thought processes. Even if they didn’t notice, others might.

Kristie herself was the exception, of course. He had long-range plans for her, plans which required that her waking personality be altered. But for what he had in mind, he needed to take his time.

Chester turned to face the blonde and the brunette.

“Mandy, Debra, listen to me,” he ordered.

The two girls gave their conditioned responses. As they spoke, two pairs of wide, blank eyes looked calmly into his own.

“When I leave here,” Chester went on, “you will dress in your regular clothes again, put away what you’ve got on now and forget all about it. Then you’ll wake up, relaxed and alert. You won’t remember doing anything unusual. You won’t remember anything strange happening. All you’ll remember is that Kristie’s boyfriend came over again. As usual, you won’t remember it was me; you won’t remember I was ever here. Do you understand, and will you obey?”

“Yes, Chester sir.”

“Yes, Chester my master.”

That was that. His business at an end, the young spellbinder turned away and left the suite.

Kristie couldn’t understand it. Lately, she’d been thinking a lot about Chester Thomas, of all people. She had even had a hot dream about him the night before last, a kinky one where the two of them made out while her suitemates stood watching like guards or something. That dream had kind of freaked her out, but somehow not as much as she would have thought.

She sighed. Chester really wasn’t all that repulsive, she mused, even if he wasn’t as handsome and good at sports as the guys she usually dated.

Kristie caught herself. “Usually dated”? She and Chester weren’t actually dating, eww. It was just that he was really smart, and Daddy was being so unreasonable about her getting good grades. He’d hit the ceiling after her midterms came in, and demanded that she get help. “If you don’t,” he’d threatened, “I’m cutting off your allowance. No more parties or clothes for you!”

That was when she’d found herself approaching Chester for tutoring help. It was so embarrassing! But he’d been nice about it and everything. He’d really helped her, the last few weeks, and he’d never tried to take advantage. The only thing was, she always found it hard to remember exactly what had happened while they were together.

Kristie shook her head, tossing her hair. It didn’t matter. Her grades were going up, which made Daddy happy and kept him sending her money. That was what counted.

She was on her way over to Chester’s place now, in fact. She liked going there better than him coming to her suite, because they had more privacy. Even if they weren’t doing anything besides studying, she didn’t want the other girls around when they were together. She was sure they’d tease her, or say something nasty to Chester, and that would spoil things.

At last she arrived at Howard Dorm. She went inside and straight to Chester’s room. She knocked on his door and called softly, “Chester? It’s me, Kristie.”

The door opened. Chester stood there, one hand raised in front of him. There was something in it, dangling from it, swinging, back and forth. . . .

“Pretty,” breathed the beautiful babe in the doorway as her eyes locked onto the gem gently swinging at the end of its chain. “Sparkly. Oooooooo. . . . “ Never taking her eyes off the moving jewel, she let her arms rise in a stereotypical sleepwalker’s gesture.

“Come on in, Kristie,” Chester commanded. He stepped back to allow the redhead to enter. She moved forward dreamily, arms still raised, until he told her to stop.

Chester put the pendant away. Kristie didn’t notice; her eyes continued to move back and forth, back and forth, following the motion of the ornament as though it were still there.

“Good girl, Kristie,” he said. “Now do you remember what comes next?” He’d conditioned her carefully during their “study sessions” together.

“Yes, Chester,” the redhead recited. “You will wake me up and help me study. But when you say the words ‘you’re doing so well’ to me”—she giggled foolishly—“I’ll forget all about studying and feel . . . all horny.“ Her hands moved to cup her ample bosom.

“That’s right, Kristie. And what will you do after that?”

The befuddled beauty giggled again and batted her eyes. “Anything you say, Chester darling.”

Chester grinned. She meant it, too. He had originally had to tell her to call him “darling,” but lately, she’d begun to do so automatically as soon as her hypnotized mind was led to thoughts of sex. Little by little, her subconscious was accepting his suggestions as natural.

The grin widened. Every visit with him was further training her to accept him as her lover and master. Eventually, if things worked out the way he hoped, she’d do so even when she wasn’t in trance—and it would seem perfectly normal and natural to her. If he told her to do a striptease in public, she’d do it, and think it was her own idea.

Not that he would, of course. That would be wrong. Besides, it’d get both of them in trouble. It might end up with someone taking the pendant away.

He spoke: “Study time, Kristie.”

The redhead blinked. Awareness returned to her eyes. “Yeah, I guess so,” she agreed.

Chester inspected her carefully and nodded. She was perfectly awake now, with no memory of what had just happened. Well—he corrected himself—not awake awake, he still had her under control, but in a much lighter trance. In the deeper hypnotic state he preferred for . . . other activities, she couldn’t think well enough to study.

The two of them got down to academic business. Kristie was still having trouble with math and economics, but under Chester’s guidance she was catching up. He’d found that he could boost her concentration and recall with the right suggestions. She was still not exactly a brain, but at least she paid attention in class now and remembered what she heard and read.

Not that Kristie Blake’s grade-point average mattered all that much to him. Chester smiled sourly. He might as well admit it: just like other guys, he was attracted to the package, not its contents.

On the other hand—his expression brightened—unlike other guys, he was in a position to do something about those contents.

After about an hour, he was getting bored with helping Kristie study. What she was wearing didn’t help any: she had on a tight pullover blouse with a deep neckline which exposed a lot of cleavage. It was time for a change, he decided.

“Good girl, Kristie,” he announced. “You’re doing so well.”

The effect of this phrase was as powerful as ever. Kristie blinked once, twice, then made a little noise deep in her throat. Down went the book she’d been holding.

“What’s the matter, Kristie?” Chester asked, just as if he didn’t know.

“So hot,“ Kristie moaned. Her hands reached for her blouse and began rolling it up, exposing her taut, well-muscled belly. “I . . . please, Chester darling, I don’t want to study any more tonight.”

“But you’re doing so well, Kristie,” repeated Chester.

At the repetition of that phrase, sweat popped out on Kristie’s face and exposed midriff. Her breathing shifted, turning ragged. She arched her back and peeled her blouse off over her head, thrusting her beautiful breasts toward him in the process. Laughing, she twirled the shirt in her hand before tossing it away. Then she lunged out of her chair and threw herself at him. She landed in his lap and straddled him; slender but strong female arms twined around him and pressed his face deep into her bosom.

His head was spinning as he let her push him flat on the bed.

Much later, Chester woke to find Kristie nestled against him, fast asleep. Her rich red hair cascaded down her smooth naked back, and her head rested on his shoulder. He ran his hand through it; it felt wonderful.

The redhead stirred and mumbled something. “Shhh,” Chester soothed, and she fell still and silent once more.

He had to go to the bathroom. Very carefully, the slender youth slipped himself loose of the sexy babe he’d been sleeping with. Moving through the darkened room with the ease possible only to someone long familiar with it, he found a bathrobe and tossed it on, then headed out of his room and down the hall towards the restroom.

Few people are perfectly alert at three in the morning, however. On his way back in, Chester bumped into his desk, knocking a book off onto the floor with a loud thump. Instantly, his eyes shot to the bed.

Sure enough, the noise had jolted Kristie out of sleep. She opened her eyes.

“What the hell—!“ The coed sat bolt upright. “Where am I?”

Under other circumstances, the clichéd question would have been funny. Not this time: it was clear that Kristie was aware of her surroundings, and knew she was somewhere she shouldn’t be.

“Pretty shiny pendant,” Chester blurted by instinct. It worked; at the sound of the words, Kristie relaxed. Her eyes lost focus and her mouth fell open slightly.

“Whew.” That had been a close one, Chester thought. Fortunately, the trigger phrase had worked as well as always. If it hadn’t, who knew what might have happened before he could find the pendant itself?

Still in his bathrobe, he sat down on the edge of the bed, facing the once more entranced girl propping herself upright on it. He thought for a bit before coming to a decision.

“Kristie,” he finally said, “this is all just a dream. You remember, Kristie, we’ve talked about this. When you see the pretty shiny pendant, you’re asleep and dreaming, isn’t that right, Kristie?”

The girl nodded. “Yes. Asleep. Dreaming. When I see the . . . pretty shiny pendant.”

“And you can see it now, Kristie, can’t you? Yes, you can.” Chester spoke with calm assurance.

“Yes . . . I can.” And it was true. All at once, the glittering gem was there, swaying back and forth in Kristie’s vision. “See it now. Pretty. Shiny.”

“Yes, of course.” Chester drove the point home. “And if you can see the pretty shiny pendant, what does that mean, Kristie?”

“I’m a-sleeeep,“ the befuddled babe cooed. Her eyes flicked back and forth, back and forth. “Dreaming.”

“That’s right, Kristie,” Chester said. “Dreaming. You’re dreaming about being with your boyfriend.” He paused. “In the dream, though, you know that your boyfriend is me. Chester Thomas is your boyfriend.”

“Chester Thomas . . . is my boyfriend?” A dazed surprise colored Kristie’s words. ‘ “In the dream,” Chester clarified. “And when you wake up, Kristie, relaxed and refreshed, you’ll remember that, but it won’t bother you. You’ll feel naughty, but it won’t bother you, because it’s only a naughty dream.”

“Naughty,” Kristie burbled. “I’m a bad girl.”

Chester laughed softly. “Now, Kristie, it’s time for you to go home. It’s time for you to get dressed and go home.” Under his guidance, Kristie got up and dressed herself. When she was fully clothed, she stood quietly, awaiting further instructions.

Chester supplied them. “In a moment, I’m going to say ‘Go home, Kristie.’ When I do, you’ll go straight home and go to bed. You’ll go to sleep in your own bed and wake up in the morning relaxed and refreshed.”

“Yes, Chester darling,” Kristie agreed.

“When you wake up in the morning, Kristie, relaxed and refreshed, what is it you’ll remember?”

“I’ll remember . . . coming over here to study.”

“Yes, yes,” Chester prompted. “And after that?”

“Dream,” Kristie answered. “I’ll remember having a . . . hot dream about a . . . date with my boyfriend.”

“That’s right, Kristie. Your boyfriend. And in the dream, who is your boyfriend?”

“You are,” murmured the luscious redhead. “Chester Thomas is my boyfriend.”

“And how will you feel, Kristie, when you remember this?” Chester watched her carefully.

“Naughty,” came the response. “All naughty. Hee hee hee. . . .”

“But it won’t bother you, will it, Kristie?”

“No, Chester darling,” Kristie answered softly. “It won’t . . . bother me.”

“Good girl, Kristie.” Chester smiled. “Now go home.”

“Yes, Chester darling.” Without another word, Kristie left Chester’s dorm room.

Through his front window, Chester watched as the brainwashed beauty exited his dormitory and walked away. Finally she disappeared from view. Yawning, he turned away. He slipped off his bathrobe and got into his pajamas. He climbed into bed and crawled under the covers, and fell asleep almost immediately.

The next morning, Kristie Blake woke up smiling. She felt so relaxed. So refreshed.

Her smile broadened as she remembered the dream she’d had. She only wished her real dates were as hot as that! Of course if they ever were, and Daddy found out, he’d, like, totally fly off the handle.

That was the thing about dreams. You could do anything in them, and it didn’t matter, because it wasn’t real and nobody ever had to know what you’d dreamed about.

The only thing was, in the dream, her boyfriend was Chester Thomas, of all people! Somehow, that didn’t seem to bother her the way she might have expected. He was nothing like her real boyfriend, of course, but he wasn’t really the geek she’d always thought he was. Look how he’d been helping her study and stuff.

Kristie got up, showered and dressed. Then she headed out for breakfast. She was really hungry this morning. She’d have to hurry, though, if she wanted to eat before class.

She giggled. She didn’t know what it was, but every time she went over for a study session with Chester, she woke up just starving the next morning! She wouldn’t have guessed that exercising her brain would burn off so many calories.

Chester Thomas woke up smiling. He felt warm and relaxed, as he always did after a “study session” with Kristie. After a few moments, he felt hungry, too, also as usual.

He got up, threw on some clothes and padded down the hall into the men’s room to wash his face and shave.

He’d slept late, as usual after a night with his hypnotized honey. These days, though, he scheduled their evening encounters with that in mind; today his first class wasn’t until ten o’clock.

That reminded him: he really needed to hit the books. He really was devoting too much time to his, ahem, hobby. His sociology prof Dr. Cannon, in particular, was starting to give him a hard time about late assignments.

All at once he remembered something. “God damn it,” he swore under his breath. He had a paper due for Cannon’s class, and it wasn’t ready. I really do not need this, he thought.

Then again——his mood brightened as a thought occurred to him—it’s not as if I can’t do anything about it. . . .

Dr. Andrea Cannon ran a hand through her dark hair as she surveyed the sea of faces in front of her in the lecture hall.

As usual, the more attentive students had seated themselves down in front. Near the back, several young men were very obviously asleep, only fifteen minutes into the class, while others made unconvincing attempts to look as if they were listening to her.

She sighed. All you could do was present the material. The students themselves had to make some effort to absorb it.

Her eyes fell on one person in the front row, and stayed there.

Chester Thomas had seemed so promising at the start. Somehow, though, he’d seemed to lose focus. He still did well enough on her quizzes and tests, but his take-home assignments were another matter. Even when he turned them in on time, they were sloppy, obvious rush jobs—and fewer and fewer of them were coming in when they were due.

There was a paper to be handed in today, in fact. The professor pursed her lips. If Chester didn’t have it ready, she’d have to have a talk with him. Enough was enough.

She finished her presentation and put her notes away. It was time.

“Papers, please,” she commanded briskly. One by one, the students filed forward and handed in their work, all but the usual few do-nothings.

And, she noted, Chester Thomas. As he approached her where she stood at the lectern, it was obvious he had nothing to turn in.

Yes, it was definitely time the two of them had a chat.

Chester opened his mouth to speak. Before he could say anything, Dr. Cannon held up her hand. “Do you have your assignment, Chester?”

“No, Dr. Cannon.” So much for that.

The professor looked the skinny blond sophomore over thoughtfully. “Why not?”

Chester hesitated. What could he say? Certainly not that he’d been preoccupied with improving his sex life (and getting a bit of revenge along the way) through hypnosis! He didn’t think Cannon would buy “family problems” as an excuse, either. She’d just call his parents.

Chester shuddered. He could just picture Mom and Dad’s reaction at being called by Dr. Cannon and told that he’d used that excuse for not doing his homework. He might as well forget about ever coming home again.

He’d been having second thoughts about using the pendant. He couldn’t hypnotize his way out of every problem. That would be wrong. But . . . this time, maybe he had no choice.

Dr. Cannon frowned. “Well?” Wasn’t the boy even going to try to explain himself?

“I’m sorry,” Chester finally answered. “It’s just not ready yet.” Looking at the professor’s darkening expression, Chester reached by instinct for the gem, hidden in his jacket. It took an effort to restrain himself. Not here, he thought.

“See me in my office this afternoon,” ordered the professor. “One o’clock. Sharp. We need to have a talk.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Chester replied, sounding downcast. Inwardly, though, he exulted: Perfect. The two of us, alone in her office—I couldn’t have arranged it better myself.

“Very well, then,” responded Dr. Cannon. “You’re dismissed.”

Chester turned and walked away. As he moved off, the professor gazed after him thoughtfully. For just a moment, there had been something odd in the young man’s eyes—something more like satisfaction than the fear or dismay she might have expected to see there.

She shook her head. Surely she was imagining things.

At precisely one o’clock, the door to Dr. Cannon’s office opened and Chester Thomas came in. The professor looked up, nodded, and gestured toward the chair beside her desk. “Have a seat, Chester. You see, you can do things on time if you apply yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Grinding his teeth, Chester sat down. Cannon’s words and tone made clear she was all set to rake him over the coals. He was sure it would be a richly humiliating experience, especially since he had to admit he had it coming.

Or—he corrected himself—it would be a humiliating experience, if not for his secret weapon.

“I’m sure you know why you’re here, Chester,” the dark-haired academic said. “You’re very bright, but that’s not enough in my class. You have to be responsible, as well. You have to do your assignments, and do them on schedule. If you can’t, well . . . perhaps you don’t belong in my class.”

Chester smiled. “You’re right, of course.” He reached inside his jacket. “But I think I can persuade you to give me a break.” He pulled his hand back out.

“I don’t see how,” Cannon disagreed. A sudden motion and sparkle drew her eyes. There was something dangling from Chester’s hand now, swinging gently back and forth, catching the light. “I can’t . . . treat you differently . . . from other . . . other stu-dents. . . .” Her voice grew vague as her eyes locked onto the glittering object now swinging gently in front of her. The world seemed to dissolve into the motion and the sparkle.

“Of course you can treat me differently,” Chester contradicted her. “Just watch the pretty sparkling jewel swinging back and forth, and listen to my voice, and I’ll explain.”

“Yes,” whispered Dr. Cannon. “Watch. Listen. You’ll . . . ex-plain. . . .” Her eyes swung back and forth, back and forth, following the glitter which was all she saw now.

Chester smirked. The stern pedant who had upbraided him in class was gone. In her place was a wide-eyed, breathy-voiced doll-woman very obviously deep in trance.

“What’s your first name?” he asked her. He knew he’d seen or heard it somewhere, but nobody ever seemed to call her anything but “Dr. Cannon” or “Professor” and he’d forgotten.

“Andrea,” mumbled Dr. Cannon. “First name . . . Andrea.”

“That’s a nice name.” Chester smiled across the desk. “You don’t mind if I call you Andrea, do you, Dr. Cannon? Of course you don’t.”

“Of course . . . I don’t,” came the answer. “Call me . . . Andrea.”

“That’s good, Andrea.” Chester grinned. “It’s good that I can call you Andrea, because we’re going to be good friends from now on. Very good friends.”

Very . . . good friends.”

“Friends, very good friends, trust each other. I trust you, Andrea, I trust you to do as I say, think what I tell you to think, because you trust me, too, Andrea, you trust me completely, so you know it’s all right to do as I say, think what I tell you to think, and I trust you to understand this, Andrea, trust you to do as I say and think what I tell you to think, Andrea. . . .” Around and around Chester led the bedazzled brunette, reinforcing his control with each repetition and swinging the glittering gem in rhythm with his words. Soon it was not only Andrea’s eyes but her head which bobbed back and forth, following the pendant’s swing. At last her whole body was swaying, ever so gently, in time with the motion of the gem.

Chester pocketed the jewel.

“Andrea, you trust me completely,” he told her. “Do you understand what that means?”

The professor furrowed her brow. “Means I . . . do what you say. Think what you . . . tell me to think.” She smiled. Yes, that was the right answer.

“That’s right, Andrea,” confirmed Chester. “And you think I’m attractive, don’t you, Andrea? Very attractive. You want me. You want me, because I say so. You want me desperately, because I say so.”

A low moan answered him. “Oh, God. Yes. Want you. Desperately. Because . . . because you say so!” Sweat popped out on Andrea Cannon’s face. She squirmed in her seat, peeling out of her suit jacket, and her hands went to the buttons of her blouse.

Soon that, too, had been removed. Chester’s smile broadened as he saw the large, soft breasts beneath, barely confined by a tight white bra.

The dazed Andrea responded to his expression, rising from her seat and leaning across the top of her desk to give him a close-up look. “You like what you see, don’t you?” she pleaded.

Chester liked what he saw. His trousers tented as he reached up to unfasten the undergarment. When it came away, the flesh it had held bobbed free and he moaned.

Andrea slithered across her desktop and sat herself astride her student and slavemaster. Her body, driven by the need implanted by his suggestions, writhed against him; her mind continued to follow the pretty flashing lights she still saw, the pretty flashing lights, the pretty flashing lights. . . .

Some time later, Chester found himself pinned down, naked except for his socks, atop Andrea’s desk as the brunette, her back arched and hair unbound and flying wildly, rode him. Her head was thrown back, and she was babbling deliriously. “Because you say so! Pretty flashing lights! Because you say so! Ooooooohhh—!“ His own body shook and bucked automatically beneath the befuddled beauty.

At last the two of them came together, Chester’s hoarse cry blending with Andrea’s shriek of joy. The hypnotized woman collapsed atop her controller with a happy sigh. “Pretty . . . flashing . . . lights. ‘Cause you . . . say so. . . .” Chester allowed himself to lie there, legs dangling off the edge of the desk, while he slowly drifted back to reality. At last, very gently, he eased out from under, allowing Dr. Cannon to rest alone on the polished surface.

Chester got dressed. When he was finished, he retrieved the pendant and approached Andrea Cannon where she lay smiling vacantly up at her ceiling lights. He leaned over her, set his dark glasses more firmly on his nose, and began swinging the gem, ever so gently. Andrea sighed; her half-lidded eyes opened wide and began tracking the motion once more.

“That was very nice, Andrea, wasn’t it?”

“Mmmm,” the bewildered brunette mouthed. “Very nice. Yes.”

“But you know,” Chester warned, “it’s wrong to have that kind of relationship with a student. If anyone ever found out, you could be fired.”

A vaguely worried expression emerged on Professor Cannon’s face. “If anyone found out . . . fired.”

“So we won’t tell them, will we, Andrea? Nobody has to know.” Chester laughed softly. “Even you don’t have to know, if you don’t want to. If you don’t want to remember, Andrea, you don’t have to remember anything except that you had a talk with me.”

“Don’t have to remember . . . if I don’t want.”

“All you need to remember is that you find me very, very attractive, sexually attractive, and you want to help me. You’ll do anything to help me, won’t you, Andrea? Of course you will.”

“Very attractive. Want to help you. Do anything . . . to help you.”

“That’s wonderful, Andrea.” Chester put the pendant away again. “Then this is what I want: from now on, when I hand in an assignment, even if it’s late, you’ll treat it as if it came in on time, record it as coming in on time. You’ll even remember it as coming in on time. Do you understand me, Andrea, and will you do all this for me?”

“Yes,” came the reply. “Understand. When you hand in an assignment . . . even if it’s late . . . I will treat it as on time. I will remember it as on time.”

“That’s right, Andrea. You’ll do this for me even if you don’t remember what we’ve done together, even if all you remember, all you allow yourself to remember, is that we had an ordinary teacher-student conference.”

Chester frowned. He’d have to check, later, and find out just exactly what Dr. Cannon did remember. That would affect how he dealt with her in the future.

It was time to wrap things up.

“Andrea,” the youthful mesmerizer said, “I’m going to count from zero to three, and as I do, you’re going to slowly wake up and become your normal self again.” He stopped and thought a moment. “You’ll become your normal self, except that you’ll find you are very attracted to me and want to help me do well in your class. You’ll find you want to help me because you want me.

“And Andrea, if we’re alone together and I call you by your first name, no matter what we were talking about, you’ll find yourself overwhelmed by lust, by the desire you will now feel for me. Nothing else will matter after that, until we’ve had sex.” That suggestion would probably have to be reinforced, but—Chester grinned—he could make his own opportunities for that.

“Zero,” he continued. “You’re so relaxed, lost in the pretty sparkling lights, but you know it’s time to wake up.

“One. You’re beginning to wake up. You’re moving away from the pretty lights and back toward your office.” Andrea yawned and blinked.

“Two.” This one would take a few minutes. “You’re back in your office, Andrea, you’re getting up, Andrea, you’re getting up and getting dressed.” It wouldn’t do for Dr. Cannon to come to her senses naked.

Andrea obeyed. She swung off the desk and put her clothes back on, then pinned up her hair. When she was done, she seated herself calmly in the big chair behind her desk.

Chester, who had resumed his own original seat, spoke again: “Three.”

Andrea Cannon blinked, then focused on the young man seated beside her desk. “I believe we’re done here, Chester,” she said. “You may go.”

“Thank you, Dr. Cannon,” her visitor responded. “You’ve been very helpful.” He stood up to his full gangly height, crossed the room and left, closing the door gently behind him.

Now what did he mean by that? the professor wondered.

Well, it didn’t matter. She had made it plain to him that he needed to start meeting class deadlines.

She smiled. He was a cute boy, she thought, feeling an unexpected flash of heat pass through her. For just a moment, she pictured the two of them together, naked . . . !

She shook her head. He was a student! They couldn’t have that kind of relationship; it would get her fired if it ever came out, fired and probably sued by young Mr. Thomas’ parents.

Still, she couldn’t deny he had a certain appeal. Andrea Cannon giggled, a very un-professorlike sound. She wanted to help him. Just now, she felt she’d do just about anything to help Chester Thomas do well in her class.

But, she told herself sternly, nothing she wouldn’t do for other students, of course. That would be wrong.