Dylan and The King: Wicked Science
Prologue
Arms encircling me. Caressing me. Holding me tight.
My body drenched in sweat and tingling.
I feel his cock touch me and I jump in anticipation.
My mouth is pulled open and he is inside my head.
Pumping. Thrusting. Making me his.
I can feel myself becoming wet. Ready and welcoming for him.
My tongue swirls around his prick in my mouth. Feeling his slick skin.
He touches my breasts. Holds them. Tenderly at first.
Then with more passion. Firmer. Stronger.
He plays with me like he owns me. Teasing my nipples, then pulling them and squeezing them exactly as I want him to do.
My back arches as the excitement and delight overwhelm my brain and take over my body.
His cock moves in and out of my mouth, plunging into me over and over as the tip spreads open my throat and it closes around his him.
Suddenly, just as quickly as he entered me, he is gone, and I scream in frustration at the absence of him.
I can feel him moving down my body, over my exposed flesh, and down towards my cunt.
My legs are pulled apart. Open and expecting for him to do whatever he wants.
He makes me wait.
I can feel him tickling me a little. It is his turn to tease me. To make me beg.
He only does things when he is ready, not when I am.
Then I feel it. The tip of him at my entrance.
“Do it! Come on!” I cry and this time I pray that he hears me and does exactly what we both want him to do.
And then, with a push, he parts my lips and sinks inside me.
I love to be full and he fills me like no other lover ever has.
I feel him sliding inside. Pushing me apart. My flesh opening to accept him.
My body throbs with the ache for more of him. I would gladly let him split me in half if it meant even a second more of this pleasure.
When he is all the way in me, my body unable to take any more of him, I feel him withdraw and his cock slips out of my body.
I am empty.
“Put it back in! God damn you. Put it back in!”
I feel him tickle my clit. Softly. Swirling around it.
Then I am over the edge and into terrible pleasure. My body erupts and I climb into a new plane of existence as an orgasm rockets through me.
He waits.
He gives me time to recover.
And then he is in me once again. Not gentle this time.
Hard. Fast. Fucking me like a bitch and his only goal is to mate with me.
Impregnate me.
And I want that. As badly as he does.
Minutes of this seem to stretch into hours.
I cum again. And again. And again.
Finally, when I cannot take another second, I feel a surge inside me, and a warmth spreads throughout my belly.
The King has cum.
Chapter 1 — A Warning
My name is Dylan Tate, and I was the first woman to meet The King.
I was the first woman to experience His power. The first woman, of what is now a swarm, to come under His spell. To be His.
Some of his followers call me The Queen, because I was the first. Because, at least for a short while, I was His favorite.
Now I am forgotten. He has a world to conquer and I am an afterthought.
At first, when He abandoned me, I was distraught. I waited for Him to come back to me. To return to me and claim me once again.
Fortunately, after a few weeks of being away from Him, His hold over me began to fade and I became grateful for His lack of attention.
I have managed to gain enough to control over myself that I can write this.
That I can call for help.
This book should serve as a warning to those who are not yet under His power.
There is something important that you must know.
You can fight Him.
I know it. He has power, but not enough to be invincible. Not yet.
If you are reading this, there may still be time. You must understand that this is real.
It is happening right now.
I don’t think His influence extends much beyond Illinois, but that won’t be the case for much longer.
He is growing fast. His followers are growing in number.
Read my story. Every word is true.
Read it. Learn from it.
Fight back.
Chapter 2 — The Doctor is In
Dr. Gabriel Lawton has three doctorates (Biochemistry, Evolutionary Biology, and Genetics), is the Dean of Science and Research at Frasier University, has a Nobel Prize, and is a First-Class Grade-A asshole.
This was a well-known and accepted fact in the Fallon Science Building.
It is probably a well-known and accepted fact by everyone who ever met him. Every person I know who has interacted with Dr. Lawton says that he is a misogynist, relentlessly condescending, and so arrogant that he might actually believe that he is a god.
There were also rumors, persistent ones, about him trying to sleep with his students and, if they didn’t go along with it, he would fail them. I hadn’t actually spoken to anyone it had happened to, but I heard stories of young women that it had supposedly happened to.
Normally someone of Dr. Lawton’s ego, and academic stature, wouldn’t bother to lift a finger teaching undergraduate students like myself.
But in the Fall semester of 2019 Dr. Lawton offered four undergraduate courses in Biochemistry. Luckily, I managed to score a place in his 400-level course. I was excited to learn from such a brilliant man, despite his reputation.
At that time, I was a Junior majoring in Biochemistry with a minor in Physics. I was born in Seattle, where my parents still live, but I chose to attend school at Frasier, here in Illinois, because of its world-class science department.
When I was in the 100 and 200 level courses, I would be in lecture halls with hundreds of other students and the professors and I would rarely, if ever, meet. So, if you were having trouble in the class, you would turn to graduate assistants, tutors, or study groups to find your way.
In Dr. Lawton’s class, at the 400-level, there were only 24 students and if you were struggling with the material, it was very obvious to the professor. It was October of that semester and I found myself failing Dr. Lawton’s class. Failing badly. And since Biochemistry is my major, I was in really deep shit.
Despite spending hours reading the books and working on the homework assignments, I couldn’t seem to grasp the material. I tried every study method I knew, but nothing was working.
There were two study groups for the class, and I joined both of them, but while everyone else in the groups seemed to breeze through the lessons, I was struggling to keep up. Needing to pass the class to graduate, and not knowing what else to do, I took the one step that I had been dreading.
Going to Dr. Lawton for help.
That is how I found myself sitting on a bench outside his office at 5:30 on Wednesday evening. Normally class ran until 6:00, but we had taken a test that day and I had finished early. Which meant, I thought, that I had probably gotten a lot of the answers wrong.
I was texting my best friend Carol when Dr. Lawton’s secretary leaned out of his office and interrupted me.
“Miss Tate, is it?”
“Yes. Dylan Tate.”
“I’m Sharon. Come with me please. Dr. Lawton will see you now.”
Sharon took me through the main office area and down a long hallway that was lined with framed portraits of the doctor, printouts of news articles praising him, and awards he had received. Dr. Lawton’s hallway, which lead to his private office, was a monument to himself.
When we came to the end of the hall, the secretary knocked on the door. From the other side I heard Dr. Lawton, in his British accent, bark: “Come in. It is open.”
Sharon gave me a sad smile, muttered, “Good luck” and left. Once she was gone, I pushed the door in.
The doctor was sitting behind a large desk mahogany desk and working on a laptop. The only other thing on the desk was his smartphone. In fact, the room looked unlike any other professor’s office I had been in.
There were no stacks of papers to be graded. No bookcases overflowing with dissertations and old book volumes covered with dust. The room was empty except for the desk, three chairs, including the one he sat in, and a small minifridge in one corner.
Dr. Lawton was in his mid-sixties and age had taken a toll on him. There was an abundance of frown lines and wrinkles across his face. His hair had faded and receded halfway up his head, leaving a large patch of pale skin surrounded by a circle grey fringe.
He stopped typing and looked up at me. His eyes ran down my body to my thighs and then back up to my chest. I doubt that he saw my face. He waved a hand at one of two chairs that sat in front of his desk.
“Be with you in just a moment.”
As he worked, I looked around the room. It was decorated just like the hallway. Framed articles. Scientific awards. Pictures of Lawton with scientists and celebrities. Directly behind him, just above his head, was a large picture of the doctor with President George W. Bush, President Clinton, and President Obama. All of them wore tuxedos and big smiles. It had been taken at some charity event, I guessed.
After several minutes of waiting, I got bored. For lack of anything else to do I reached into my pocket and took out my phone.
He stopped typing.
“Please do not do that. I do not like having those things in here,” he said without looking up at me. I didn’t point out that he had his phone sitting on the desk in front of him.
I put the phone back in my pocket, and he went back to typing. There was a clock on his wall to my right, and I sat there watching it as ten minutes ticked away. Finally, he closed the laptop and leaned back in his chair.
“My apologies. I was answering questions for some of my colleagues in Japan. They are working on some fascinating discoveries and had need of some expert advice. I am, of course, happy to help them.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I kept my mouth shut.
“You, Miss Tate, are failing my class.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please, call me Dr. Lawton, not sir. Do me that level of respect. And now, you are here to see me about reversing that situation. Failing my class, that is.”
“Yes, Dr. Lawton.”
“Have you considered dropping the class? Perhaps focusing on something in your major.”
“Biochemistry is my major, Dr. Lawton.”
“I see. Tough major. Especially for a woman like yourself. Lots of difficult concepts to grasp. I haven’t seen very many women who can really handle the material. That is why most of your classmates are men. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
Misogynist prick, I thought, while keeping my face neutral. In fact, my classes did skew heavily male, but I didn’t think it was the material that was the problem.
“Have you tried working with a study group?” he asked.
“I did. I went to several meetings with two different groups. It didn’t help very much.”
“What else have you done?”
“I am reading the books. I am doing the homework, which I am actually doing well on. I made flash cards. I’m watching videos on YouTube. I am doing everything I can think of. I just… I am just not getting it.”
“Hmmm…” he muttered and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, “How old are you Miss Tate?”
“Twenty-one, Dr. Lawton.”
“And you are in very good shape. Do you exercise?”
“Swimming. I’m on the swim team.”
“Do you yourself have any genetic problems? Abnormalities?”
I wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but I knew I needed his help, so indulged him.
“Not that I am aware of.”
“Have any of the women in your family lost pregnancies? What about abortion. Have you had one?
Now I was really confused.
“Dr. Lawton, what exactly does this have to do with my grade?”
“I am just wondering about a few things. Humor me, please. Your family history. Any major medical problems? Severe mental illness perhaps?
“I had an uncle that I was told was schizophrenic. He died before I was born, sir.”
“Please, Dr. Lawton, not sir. Are you sexually active?”
My jaw dropped. The conversation was taking a very weird turn and I wasn’t sure what the hell was happening.
“Dr. Lawton, I’m not sure that this has to do with…”
Dr. Lawton held up his hand for me to stop. When I stopped talking, he got up from his chair, walked around the desk, and sat down in the chair beside me. He stared at me, with a smile on his face, and then put his right hand on my left knee.
I flinched at his touch.
His eyes again ran up and down my body. Once he had a good close look at me, he focused on my face.
It was not a friendly look. I felt like he was studying me. Evaluating me.
His look, and touch, made my skin crawl and I wanted to slap the hand off, but I took a deep breath and forced myself to calmly look back at him.
It wasn’t the first time a professor had made a pass at me, though it was the first time one had the audacity to touch me. I wanted to get up and leave, but I kept telling myself that I need this man. I need him. Just get through it.
“I want to help you, Miss Tate. I want you to be successful. Do you believe that?”
“Yes, Dr. Lawton. I am just not sure what my family history, or whether or not I have sex, has to do with your class. Or is any of your business.”
“Never mind that now. We can worry about that later. For now, let us focus on getting you some help. A young woman as pretty as you, well we need to keep you around. Even if you do not have much of a chance at making an impact scientifically.”
He leaned closer. I could smell his breath. It stank of garlic and whiskey.
The doctor’s hand slid off my knee and ran up my leg until it was resting on my thigh. I stiffened and involuntarily pushed the chair back a little. He didn’t move his hand, but his smile shifted. Became more predatory.
“So how do I help you? What can I do to assist you Miss Tate?”
I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to answer or not. I opened my mouth to ask if he had a study guide, or some past tests that I could look over, but before I could speak, he started talking again.
“I think a tutor might be useful. Do you think so?”
“A tutor? I didn’t know there was a tutor available.”
“There is not. But I have a graduate assistant, Charlie, who completed the Biochemistry Doctorate program two years ago. He is assisting me with some of my research while he works on his second PHD in Genetics. He does not normally work with undergraduate students, but I think I could persuade him to give you some assistance. For a small fee, of course.”
He squeezed my thigh. I could feel the heat of his hand through my jeans. I was trembling with disgust at his touch. I was certain he could feel it.
I took a deep breath and tried to keep calm.
“That would be great, Dr. Lawton. Thank you.”
“Excellent. Then it is settled.”
His smile broadened and Dr. Lawton pulled his hand slowly down my leg until it was back on my knee.
“Let me get Charlie’s information.”
He went back behind his desk, took a sticky pad and a pen out of a drawer, and wrote on the top sheet. He handed the paper to me.
“I will send Charlie an email in a few minutes explaining the situation and letting him know that I expect him to help you. Set up a meeting for the weekend. Is there anything else I can do for you right now Miss Tate?”
I folded the paper and put it in my pocket.
“No, Dr. Lawton. This is great. I appreciate it more than I can say.”
“Happy to help. Happy to help,” he said extending the same hand that was recently on my thigh across his desk. I stood up and took it. It made my skin crawl to touch him.
“Have a good day Miss Tate. And next time you come to class, why don’t you wear a nice blouse and skirt. I always see you in jeans and t-shirt. Not very lady-like.”
It occurred to me that if I had been wearing a skirt, he likely would have run his filthy hand underneath it. A shiver of revulsion ran through me. Dr. Lawton was, if anything, an even bigger prick than his reputation suggested.
“Yes, Dr. Lawton. I will see what I have in my closet,” I said as he kept a firm grip on my hand.
“Excellent. I will hope to see you again soon.”
With that he released my hand, sat down in his desk chair, and opened his laptop back up. I picked up my bookbag and left.
Chapter 3 — Stan the Man
Across from me, at a loud restaurant just a few blocks off of campus, my boyfriend Stan was devouring a plate full of chicken wings. I was having a salad and trying not to feel nauseated as I watched Stan eat the wings. My stomach was upset after the incident with Dr. Lawton earlier that day.
Stan, like me, was a member of the swim team and a junior at Frasier. We had only been dating a couple of months, but I liked Stan. He treated me well, acted like a mature adult, and was pretty good in bed.
If he had a big flaw it was that he wanted to a journalist and sometimes talking to him was like being interviewed.
“So how was the meeting with Lawson? Get anything accomplished?” Stan asked sucking some sauce off of his fingers and then reaching for another wing on the plate in front of him.
“Lawton. Dr. Lawton. And it went fine.”
I decided to pretend as if nothing weird had happened, like the questions or the inappropriate touching. Stan didn’t need to know about that.
“Just fine? Can I have some more information?”
He smiled at me, wing sauce coating his mouth, and I laughed at how silly he looked.
“We talked about my grades. I told him that I was doing the homework. Reading the books. That I had gone to the study sessions with the groups.”
“And what did he say to that?”
“He didn’t really say anything to that. He did ask me if I shouldn’t drop the class and focus on my major. He told me that Biochemistry is a difficult subject for a woman. He also told me that I should wear a skirt to class. And a blouse. He said it would be more lady-like.”
“Wow. Misogynist prick.”
“That’s is exactly what I said to myself.”
“But that is his rep on campus, right? A total dickhead?”
“Yep. World class asshole pretty much sums it up.”
“Did he try anything?” Stan asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Stan said wiping his face with a napkin, “Did he try anything? I thought that I heard he has a habit of touching the merchandise.”
Ignoring that my boyfriend has just referred to me as “merchandise”, I shook my head and lied to him.
“No. He didn’t try anything.”
“So, what did he do?”
“He offered to get me a tutor.”
“You told me that there wasn’t a tutor for the class.”
“Technically there isn’t. He has a doctoral student that works as his research assistant. Charlie. He is going to have Charlie tutor me. Not sure how much he charges, but if I can raise my grade it is probably worth it. Oh shit, I forgot to call him.”
Stan finished his last wing and then belched.
“Nice,” I said, “Very mature. And here I was just thinking about how it was so lovely to be dating an adult for a change.”
“Better out than in,” he replied, “I’m going to the bathroom. Go ahead and call that guy now. I’ve got to piss.”
Stan stood up, belched again, and headed off towards the bathroom.
I took out my phone and the piece of paper from my pocket. After six rings a voicemail picked up. I left a message for Charlie introducing myself, explaining the situation in case he had not received Dr. Lawton’s email, and asking him to call me back.
By the time I was done, Stan had returned from the bathroom with a clean face and a twinkle in his eyes. He wore a big smile.
“What does that look mean?” I asked, knowing already what it meant.
“Nothing,” he said, “So, do you want to go back to my place? Watch a movie? And chill?”
He winked and smiled even wider. I wasn’t in the mood, but a little affection, and possibly an orgasm, might take my mind off of my bad day.
“Ok. Let’s go.”
“Alright!” he said offering me his hand.
An hour later we were making out in his bed as a bad horror movie played silently on the TV across the room. I was down to my panties, bra, and a t-shirt. He was on top of me and I could feel his erection straining through the fabric of his jeans.
“You good?” he said pulling away from me a little.
“Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Ok,” I said, “Then I am amazing. I am ready for you to rock my world you big stud.”
“Then let’s get it on!” he said enthusiastically.
I broke into a laugh and covered my face with my hands.
“What?”
“Oh, I just can’t believe you said that. Here, let me get this off.”
I stripped off my t-shirt and then unhooked and removed my bra, freeing my breasts.
“I love these,” Stan said as he latched onto my tits with both hands.
“These? Can you please not be an idiot and stop referring to my tits as separate organisms?”
He just grinned down at me.
“Idiot? I will show you how big an idiot I am. I’m going to eat the shit out of you!” Stan said.
“Eat the shit? That doesn’t sound like what you think it sounds like. You just need to stop talking. Get down there.”
I put my hands on the top of his hand and pushed insistently. He started to move down the bed.
I felt his mouth on the front, and then each side, of my neck as he began to kiss his way down my body. His left hand gripped the back of my neck, gently pulling my hair, and I groaned in response.
He knew I loved having my neck caressed.
I felt his hands on my tits and I began to breath hard as he massaged them, and his thumbs played with my nipples.
“Stan… feels so good,” I said to encourage him.
Then his tongue was on my hard buds, first one, then the other, and he drew them into his mouth and lightly bit down, sending little waves pleasure burning through me.
He stayed on my breasts, drawing more moans from me, before kissing his way down my stomach. His hands slipped between my skin and my panties and I raised my legs so that he could take them off.
I felt his tongue start to work its way up and down the sensitive silky skin. His thumb began to massage my clit as he alternated licking it softly and fucking me with his mouth.
“Don’t fucking stop,” I implored him.
I felt one finger, then a second, slip in and begin to slowly push in and out as he continued to eat me. His tongue playing with my clit and his teasing was driving me wild.
Stan’s hand slid up my stomach and gripped my left breast. He pushed his face, and tongue, deep into me. His mouth moving around while his fingers explored inside me.
I pushed his hand away and cupped my tits with my hands. Squeezing them together I tweaked and then pulled my nipples, just the way I liked. Little rushes of joy filled me, and I began to moan and squirm against his exploring fingers and tongue.
I could feel him licking me. Touching me. Tasting me. It was wonderful. Within my body I felt a building storm. My excitement began to reach its peak and I felt a rush of endorphins as I climaxed.
I arched off of the bed as my muscles clinched and relaxed in waves. Every inch of my body felt as if it was being touched lightly by feathers. I could feel myself almost pulse as the orgasm roared its way through my body, radiating out from my cunt to reach every part of me.
“Shit! Of fuck…” I moaned as I came.
When it was nearly over, I rolled into a ball and cuddled myself as the orgasm descended into a warm tingly feeling of satisfaction.
“That was a loud one. You must have enjoyed that,” Stan said from the bottom of the bed, “I guess I hit the right spot?”
“I guess you did,” I said, “Your turn. Or do you not want anything tonight?”
“Oh, fuck yeah I do!”
He rolled over onto his back and I rolled with him so that I was on top and straddling him.
I followed his lead and slowly kissed my way down his hairless chest, across his washboard abs, and down until I reached the edge of his jeans.
He wasn’t wearing underwear, so I reached in and grasped his hard cock and pulled it out. Seeing his dick jutting from him made my arousal return and I wrapped my hand around it and began to stroke.
“Use your mouth,” he implored.
So, I obliged and in one smooth lick I ran up him from balls to tip and then ran my tongue around the head of his cock while I looked up into his eyes.
“This is a big cock. Is it all for me?”
I wrapped my lips around the tip of his penis and slid him into my mouth. The feeling of his prick filling me made me unbelievably happy. I made little circles with my tongue and closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling of his skin inside me.
“Fuck yes…” he moaned and leaned his head back onto the pillow.
Giving pleasure always makes me delighted. I rotated my tongue around his tip and pushed my head down until I had as much of his cock in my mouth as I could get.
Once I reached my limit, I raised my head and started to bob up and- down on him while licking the shaft as I went. He twitched inside my mouth with every revolution of my tongue around him.
I stopped blowing him and used a hand to work his shaft while I kissed and licked the tip of him with my tongue. My other hand played gently with his balls, which I knew he liked.
“That is so good…”
Without a warning I raised my head and then dropped straight down until the head of his prick was buried within my head. His flesh was hot and firm inside of me.
He began to hump up from the bed and fuck my mouth.
He moved underneath me as I teased him and brought him to the point of orgasm. Just when I felt like he was about to reach it, I popped my mouth off and started to rub his cock with my hands.
“Shit. Why did you stop?”
I laughed at the frustration on his face as he looked down at me.
“No cumming in my mouth. You know that.”
“Fuck. I wasn’t going to.”
“Yes, you were. I know you. Besides, I want you inside of me.”
“Ok, well then that kind of makes up for it,” he replied.
“Condom,” I reminded him.
He took one off the nightstand and handed it to me. I ripped open the package, put the condom between my lips, and dropped my head down his prick once again, pushing the condom on to him as I went.
“I love it when you do that,” he said.
I realized how much I needed this. I wanted to be fucked. Hard. I was craving sex. I had to have something inside of me. Right then and there.
I climbed up the bed and mounted him. Grasping him with my right hand I maneuvered his cock until it was in the right spot and then dropped my weight onto him so that his dick slid deep inside me.
I love being fucked. I love the feeling of being full. Of having a man deep inside of me.
“Oh, baby you are so wet.”
“I am. I’m so fucking wet. I want you to fuck me Stan. I’m going to ride you, but you better fuck me hard.”
He grasped my hips, pulled his hips down towards the bed, and then thrust up, spearing me. The sensation of his shaft parting my lips and thrusting into my cunt felt so good that I never wanted it to end.
“Yes. Stan. Like that. Fuck me like that.”
I began to move my hips in circles and started to lift myself up and drop my weight back down in time with his thrusts. Soon we were in rhythm, linked like one body, as I rode on top of him with his thick cock working in and out of my pussy.
I was no longer myself. Just as it always did during sex, my conscious mind vanished, and instinct took over.
He was driving himself as deep as he could go, and my lips were griping his shaft as he pushed himself in and out of me. The heat of our sex was driving me wild and I was throwing myself back onto him with such force that the bed beneath was slamming against the wall.
I was getting close and so was he.
I leaned forward, kissed him, and then gripped the bed posts and started to throw myself up and down on top of him even harder than before. I wanted every centimeter of his cock inside of me. I wanted him to pound me so hard that my brain would fly out of the top of my head.
“Fuck me Stan! That’s so good! Fuck me harder!”
“I’m cumming!” he announced loudly. He stopped moving and thrust upwards one last time.
My body reacted to his orgasm with a shot of delight and I came once again.
“Fuck!” I shouted as I thrashed on top of him, springing up and down on his prick as if he were a horse underneath me.
Stan sat up and wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him, and I lay my head down on his shoulder and let the warmth of his body, and his embrace, enfold me as I slowly rode another orgasm down.
He was smart enough not to open his mouth until after my breathing returned to normal. But when he did speak, it nearly ruined the entire evening.
“I love you Dylan,” he muttered, sitting there with his now-flaccid cock still inside me, “I am in love with you.”
I stiffened involuntarily. I had no idea what to say. My mind was still recovering from the orgasm he had just given me.
I had never told a man I loved him. Shit, I had never had a boyfriend tell me he loved me. I had never been in a relationship long enough for it to come up. And Stan saying this after just a few months of dating, well it freaked me out.
I did like Stan a lot, and possibly could love him, but I wasn’t ready to say it yet. But I had to say something. So, I lied.
“I love you too, Stan.”
He held me closer and, despite my lie, I did feel a great deal of affection for him.
Chapter 4 — Charlie is a Nice Man
The next day, Thursday, at 4:30 in the morning, I left Stan’s place and drove back to mine.
Along the way I thought about what had happened the night before.
I had retuned Stan’s kind words, but I wasn’t sure I actually felt them. Sure, I liked fucking him and he was fun to hang out with, but love wasn’t something I had considered.
Truthfully, I really just considered Stan a good lay. Most of my boyfriends had been that way.
I didn’t consider myself a slut, but if I was being honest, I had probably had more than my share of casual hookups, in addition to steady boyfriends. I couldn’t actually remember how many guys I had slept with.
Maybe I am a slut, I wondered absently as I pulled into the parking spot at my apartment building. I just really like sex. Maybe too much.
I had swim practice that morning, so I popped into my apartment and grabbed a bag with all the stuff I needed. Twenty minutes later, as I walked into the pool area, I ran into Carol, my best friend.
As we changed into our suits, we caught up a little. I had known Carol since freshman year when we roomed together. There had been two other girls living with us sharing a bathroom and a kitchen. Carol and I developed a mutual hatred of the other two girls, and we bonded over it.
Carol was dating a new boy, named Chris, and she spent several minutes going, in explicit detail, over the particulars of their sexual romp the night before.
Neither Carol not I had classes on Thursday morning so after swim practice, and a long shower, we got dressed and went for a cup of coffee.
After we sat down and ordered, Carol filled me in on how her classes were going, what her parents were up to, and what she was planning for the weekend. She and Chris were going to go camping from Friday night until Sunday night.
When she was done with her life updates, we talked about Stan, my parents, and then got around to my classes.
“So, what happened yesterday with that meeting with the professor. The one you are afraid of. Lawton. How did that go?”
“I’m not afraid of him. Just… he isn’t the most pleasant guy.”
“Yeah, I am going to go ahead and say you are afraid of him since you are avoiding eye contact and playing with your coffee cup, which you do when you are nervous. So, give me the details.”
“I went to him for help in the class.”
“And he said no?”
“No, he did help. He hooked me up with a grad student that assists him in his research. The guy, Charlie, is supposed to be an expert. Dr. Lawton told him to give me some tutoring.”
“That sounds promising. But you are still not looking at me, which means there is a problem. What’s the problem?”
“Lawton asked me a bunch of weird questions. About my background. Any major family medical problems. Stuff like that.”
“That is weird for a professor to ask questions,” she said, sarcastically, “Normally my professors just stare at my boobs.”
“Oh, he did that too. He checked me out top-to-bottom. Then he asked if I am sexually active.”
“Whoa,” she said leaning back in her chair in surprise, “That is fucking creepy. What did you say?”
“I didn’t answer him. I started to tell him it was none of his fucking business, but he just dropped it.”
“Well… it could be that the guy is just a creep. Could be he is so totally out-of-whack as a human being that he thinks that is an appropriate conversation. I mean, even I have heard about the guy and I barely set foot in the science building after I finished my core classes. But that wasn’t all he did. Cause you are still not looking at me. What else happened?”
I hesitated. She knew me too well and if I lied, she would read it. But I knew if I told her what happened she would tell me I needed to report him. When it came down to it though, I needed to talk to someone.
“He also put his hand on me.”
Carol stopped drinking her coffee and sat the cup back down onto the table.
“What. The. Fuck. Are you serious? Where?”
“My knee. Then he slid it up. Higher.”
“How high?”
“High enough.”
“Shit. You have got to report him.”
“I can’t do that.”
She reached her hands across the table and wrapped them around mine.
“Dylan. Listen to me. You can’t let that go. If he put his hands on you then you have to report him.”
The whole experience of sitting in his office as Dr. Lawton groped me came flooding back and I felt tears coming to my eyes. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down.
“Dylan, I am serious. Talk to me.”
“I can’t. I can’t report him. It’s he-said-she-said,” I argued, “We were alone in the office. And he is the world-famous Dr. Gabriel Lawton. Who is going to believe me? Worse, if they don’t then I have burned a bridge and I’m totally fucked on getting my degree.”
“Yeah, Ok, but the touching. The 100% totally inappropriate touching. You are just going to let that go?”
I knew she was right, and I almost agreed to go ahead and do it. But thoughts of ruining my chance at getting my degree, and future work prospects, weighed too heavily on me.
“I just won’t be alone with him again. I will only see him in class.”
Carol wore a skeptical look.
“I won’t. Listen, I don’t need him anymore,” I said, “I will get tutoring with Charlie. Learn the material. Pass the class. No need to see him, except when he is teaching.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” she asked.
“Both, I guess.”
“Well, I say you report him.”
“I will think about it.”
We finished our coffees, walked outside, and then hugged each other.
“You be careful camping with Chris. Don’t step on any snakes or anything,” I said in her ear as we embraced.
“Don’t even fucking joke about that,” she said laughing a little, “And listen. I want you to think about reporting Lambert.”
“Lawton.”
“What the fuck ever! The fucking creepy ass old man that thinks it is Ok to put his hands on someone without permission. That fucking guy. Think about it. Ok?”
“I will.”
“Alright. I will see you next week,” she said and turned to go, then turned back, “I am serious. Think about it.”
“I will. And I am serious about the snakes.”
She gave me the middle finger and walked off towards the north side of campus.
It was 9:00 AM and, with no classes, I was facing a day full of books and studying.
I walked slowly back to my apartment. Along the way I did as I promised Carol and thought about reporting Dr. Lawton. I knew I should. It was the right thing to do. Maybe it would stop him from doing it, or something worse, to another girl like me.
But what about me? What about any future career prospects? If I reported him, and even if someone believed me, I would still be the girl that brought down one of the most respected men in the scientific community.
My name, and my degree if I managed to get it, wouldn’t be worth shit.
I briefly wondered how many other women had been in the same situation as I was. Having to decide whether or not to report Dr. Lawton or to protect themselves.
I got back to my apartment and had just opened my door when my cell phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Is this Dylan Tate?”
“Yes.”
“Hey. It’s Charlie. I got your message.”
“Hey, Charlie. Thanks for getting back to me.”
“Cool. Dr. Lawton sent me an email and told me to give you as much help as you need. He said you were special.”
Special, I thought, what did that mean?
“Well, I don’t know about being special, but I definitely could use some help.”
“Cool. Listen, it’s $12 an hour. Can you afford that?”
I mentally checked my bank account and figured I could spare the money. Especially since my entire college career depended on it.
I would be a little low on funds, but I could always call Mom and have her make a deposit in my bank account. I was going to pay back all the money I borrowed from my parents after I graduated and got a job.
“Yes. I can do that,” I said, “When can we meet?”
“I am busy in the lab most every day. Dr. Lawton works me to death. Not to mention my classes. But I have free time on Sunday night. How about 7:00 in the library? Ninth floor. The engineering sections. It’s quiet there on Sunday nights.”
I hesitated. Meeting a strange guy on a Sunday night in the deserted library seemed like a recipe for trouble.
“Hello?” he said when I didn’t answer.
“Yeah, Sunday night will be fine. How long can you work with me?”
“Will three hours be enough time?”
“Yes. That will be great. Thank you so much for doing this Charlie. You don’t know how much it means.”
“Cool. No problem. Bring your homework and old tests so that I can look over them.”
“I will.”
“Cool. See you Sunday night at 7:00,” he said and then hung up.
I spent the day studying for all of my other classes. I tried to focus on the books, but the incident with Dr. Lawton kept coming up in my mind.
I had a date with Stan on Friday night, and it went well. After dinner and a movie, he invited me back to his place again, but I begged off. I still wasn’t comfortable being around him until I sorted out my feelings. He was disappointed, but I told him I would make it up to him on our next date.
Saturday was spent watching TV and studying for all of my other classes to get a week or two ahead of the game.
Sunday morning, I went for a run early and then spent two hours working out at the campus gym.
At 5:00 on Sunday night I had dinner at my apartment. When I finished eating, I had nothing better to do so decided to head over to the library early. I could read ahead while I waited for Charlie to show up.
I walked back to campus and went to the south side. Rising up to tower above all the other buildings was the 15-story Peters library. I checked in with my student ID at the security desk and took one of the elevators to the ninth floor.
There were actually two engineering sections. The one on the left was dark, but the one on the right had a light on deep in the stacks. I opened the door and went in. I walked through the book stacks towards the light and came out into a study area with several tables and a worn old couch.
Sitting at one of the tables was a thin man, much shorter and smaller than me, with glasses. He had a legal pad in front of him and he was writing feverishly. I waited for a few seconds hoping the man would realize I was there, but he was too intent on his work.
“Charlie?”
The thin man jumped in his chair and looked up at me with surprise.
“Hi,” I said, “Sorry to scare you. Are you Charlie?”
The surprised expression vanished from the man’s face and a look of anger flashed across it. The expression was so intense that I reflexively took a step or two backwards.
“I’m sorry I was looking for Charlie, “I said, seeing the anger, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
I turned around and took a few steps back towards the door.
“No. I’m sorry. Yes. I’m Charlie. I’m Charlie,” the man said from behind me.
I turned back to find him standing up behind the table and wearing a neutral expression. The anger that I was sure I saw there, was now gone.
“Please. Forgive me. I was just… distracted. I’m Charlie. You must be Dylan.”
“Yes.”
“Cool. Please, sit. I’m sorry I reacted that way. I wasn’t expecting you until 7:00.”
“No worries,” I said, “Sorry I snuck up on you like that.”
Now that I was closer to him, I could see Charlie much better. He was definitely shorter than me, probably about 5′2, and very thin. He wore mousy glasses, had a patchy beard that hadn’t come all the way in, and wasn’t trimmed. His teeth were crooked and out of place when he opened his mouth. On his t-shirt was some scantily dressed anime character with huge breasts and a big smile on her face.
I put my bookbag on the table and sat down across from him.
Charlie’s mood had changed on a dime. I knew I had seen anger in his face when I interrupted him, but now that I was sitting down across from him the man seemed almost giddy. It weirded me out a little.
“Ok. Glad you are here. No worries. Um, so again I am Charlie.”
“I’m Dylan,” I said again, and we shook hands across the table. His skin was clammy and damp.
“Cool. Nice to meet you. I can see why Dr. Lawton said you were special.”
I still wasn’t sure what “special” meant, but I decided to take it as a compliment.
“Thank you.”
He smiled and I couldn’t help staring at his teeth. He didn’t seem to notice.
“What are you making in the class right now?”
“A 68. I need at 75 to pass,” I said.
“It is only halfway through the semester, so we can turn that grade around. Have you got your tests and homework for me?”
I opened my bookbag handed over everything I had from the class.
“Cool,” he said as he took them.
I thought to myself that him saying “cool” was going to get on my nerves pretty quickly.
“I will look over these. Why don’t you read the next chapter and see if you have any questions?”
“Ok.”
Charlie started looking through my papers while I opened up the book and started to read. I didn’t get far before he interrupted me for the first time.
“So, do you have a boyfriend Dylan? You must. A beautiful girl like you always does.”
Either he is making small talk, or he could be hitting on me. I had better shut that down quickly, I thought.
“Yes. Stan. Journalism major. He is on swim team.”
“Cool. Been going out long?”
“About six months.”
“I like your hair. Very pretty. Is it natural?” he asked, abruptly switching topics.
“Yes. Just shampoo and conditioner.”
“Good,” he replied, “Can you tell me about your family? Any history of genetic anomalies?”
“Not that I know of. What has that got to do with my class?”
“Nothing. Just curious.”
It bothered me that he was asking questions just as Dr. Lawton had, but I decided to ignore it. I got through two more pages before he interrupted me for a second time.
“Cool. Now, you look a little Asian. Are you Asian, or maybe Native American?”
“Charlie, that’s a weird question. It’s, frankly, a little racist. I’d rather we just focus on the class material if that’s Ok with you.”
“No. It’s cool. Just curious.”
I tried to go back to reading but I was a little upset and having trouble concentrating. He was shifting through the papers I had given him and taking notes on his legal pad.
“So how often do you and Stan have sex?”
My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe it. This was just like with Dr. Lawton and his questions.
“I don’t mean to be rude here, but what the fuck kind of question is that to ask a person you just met?”
He still didn’t look up at me, but he did stop writing and put his pencil down.
“I’m sorry. I meant no offense. I’m on the spectrum. Asperger’s. I sometimes forget about social norms. I didn’t mean anything by it. I really am sorry,” he mumbled with his head still down.
If I didn’t need this guy so bad, I thought, I would leave right now. This was off-the-charts strange and absurd.
“Fine. Apology accepted. Let’s just, study. Are you finished looking over my tests?”
“Almost.”
He went back to writing on the pad and I tried to go back to reading, but I was majorly freaked out. All my instincts said to get up, pack my shit, and leave. That this guy might be dangerous.
But I couldn’t. I desperately needed his help.
“You want a drink?”
I realized that I had been lost in my own thoughts while I decided whether to leave or not.
I looked up from the book to find him holding a small unlabeled plastic bottle filled with a green liquid. It looked a bit like a sports drink, but thick and slimy. Just from the color alone, which was the same green as a pine-tree, I knew it was something I didn’t want to taste.
As I watched he took an identical bottle out of his bag and drank it all down in one swallow. The liquid flowed from the bottle into his mouth with the consistency of mucus.
“No,” I said, “Thank you though. I am not thirsty. Anyway, I brought my own water.”
I pulled my water bottle out of my bag and sat it on the table.
“Are you sure? This is really great stuff.”
“No. Thank you.”
He looked disappointed and, maybe, a little offended that I wouldn’t take the drink.
“Cool. Just in case you do get thirsty,” he said and sat the bottle on the table between us.
I went back to reading and he went back to scribbling in his notebook. But I felt him watching me. He was staring over the top of his eyelids at me.
Then he opened his mouth again.
“So, about the sex thing, I’m curious. Just how many men have you slept with?”
That sent alarm bells ringing in my head. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?
“Charlie, I am not going to answer that, and I would appreciate it if you would stop asking me personal questions. Honestly, you are freaking me out. One more question like that I am out of here. Get me?”
He looked appropriately chastened and returned to his writing.
I need him, I kept telling myself. I need his help. I can’t just leave because he is a creep. It then occurred to me that while I couldn’t leave, there was a precaution I could take.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I said.
I got up and walked off into the stacks towards the bathrooms in the main hallway. When I got to the bathroom, I locked the door behind me, went into a stall, and locked it from the inside. Feeling safe in there, I called Carol. It rang until the voicemail picked up.
“Carol, it’s me. I am at the library with that guy Charlie, the tutor. Listen, this guy is next level creepy. Really fucking weird. But I can’t leave. Do me a favor. I am going to call you again when I leave the library. Should be around 10:00. If I do not call, or you do not hear from me by morning, I want you to come to my apartment and try to find me. If you can’t find me or don’t hear from me by like, 9:00 AM, please call the police.”
I then gave her Charlie’s phone number and a description of him. I wished that I knew his last name so I could give that to her as well. I went ahead and used the restroom since I was in there.
I unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out into the hallway only to hear footsteps. I looked down the hall just in time to see the door to the library section Charlie and I were in, softly closing on its pneumatic hinge.
The fucker followed me, I thought! Likely he had been listening at the door.
When I got back to the study area, Charlie was sitting in the same place, taking notes on his legal pad just like when I left. But he was definitely breathing as if he had run back to his seat.
That was it for me. No matter how bad I needed help, I couldn’t take this anymore. I walked over to the desk and started packing my stuff up.
“Listen, Charlie, something has come up with a friend and I…”
He didn’t look up, but he did interrupt me.
“Cool. I have figured it out. Your problem. I know where you are messing up. It’s a simple fix I think.”
I hesitated. I knew it was time to get out of there, but I also knew that I had to pass the class. If Charlie has figured out where I was going wrong, then maybe I should stay a few minutes longer.
“Ok,” I said, “What’s my problem?”
“Formulas,” he said, “You are applying the formulas wrong. Come around here and look at this.”
Like an idiot, I did as he said, and walked around the table to stand next to him.
“Right here, look at this,” he said pointing at a line written on the page and I leaned over to look.
I didn’t see the stun gun.
His hand moved so fast I didn’t have time to react, and the metal prongs of the device impacted my neck just as he squeezed the triggers.
My knees buckled and I fell to the floor.
I was lying on my side against the end of one of the bookcases.
Charlie rolled me over onto my back and straddled my chest with his knees on my arms. Looking up at him, unable to move, I watched as he actually licked his lips and smiled.
“Cool. That worked better than I hoped. Let’s just make sure.”
He zapped me with the stun gun again and then smacked me across the face. When I didn’t react, he muttered another “cool” under his breath and then set the gun down next to my head.
The small man used his hands to tilt my head back and then I felt him pry my mouth open. I tried to move, tried to stop him, but I couldn’t make my body obey.
Then Charlie reached over onto the table, as I watched helplessly, and when his hand came back into view, he was holding the bottle of thick green liquid.
“You should have taken it when I offered it. Would have been a lot easier that way. Here we go.”
He took off the plastic cap and tilted the bottle upside down above my head and, as I watched helplessly, the green sludge flowed out and right into my mouth.
My taste buds weren’t paralyzed by the stun gun and the flavor of rotten meat and mint assaulted my senses. I had enough muscle control to gag and try to spit it out. But once the bottle was empty, he tossed it aside, closed my mouth firmly with one hand, and put his other hand on my throat.
“Got to help you now. Make sure you get all of this down.”
He held my mouth closed and massaged my throat so that I began to swallow.
“It’s better cold, but I had no way to keep it cold. For some reason it dies if you put it in a metal container. We don’t know why. Can you feel it? Going down? Into your stomach?”
He was smiling a stupid grin as he massaged my throat to get the stuff down into me.
“Once this takes effect, I am going to have some fun with you. You won’t remember it though.”
I figured I knew what “fun” meant and I wanted no part of it. I was desperately trying to move. He stopped massaging my throat and sat back onto my stomach.
“Can you feel it yet? We call it the juice. It is amazing!”
I couldn’t feel the stuff inside me, but I could feel my arm move. Just a little. The effects of the stun gun wearing off.
He noticed my arm move and his smile grew.
“This stuff works fast. We think it starts to absorb through the skin and into your body the instant it touches you. No waiting for it to sit in your stomach and digest before it takes effect. If the time in my head is right, you have about 10 seconds until it hits. It won’t matter how much you can move your arm. 9. 8. 7. 6.”
He was close enough to kiss me if he wanted to and I couldn’t stop him. My mouth and nose were choked with the taste and smell of the slime he had poured down me.
He kept counting down and, just as he reached 2, I went haywire.
My entire body spasmed so hard that I threw Charlie off of me. The pain was unspeakable. It felt like my organs were trying to rip their way out of me. My vision blurred as my eyes rolled wildly in my head and I could hear the clomping of my shoes as my body convulsed and I kicked involuntarily,
“Cool!” Charlie said, drawing out the word, “I will never get over seeing this happen.”
My head was splitting like someone had put an axe through it and I felt like my blood was on fire as it beat through my heart. Then the edges of my vision began to fade to black and the world went away.
The liquid took over me.
I became disconnected. A feeling I would soon experience several more times.
After Charlie was finished with me that night, he made me forget what happened. I can only tell you about it now because The King, when I eventually did meet him, restored my memories. But here is what happened with Charlie that night. As I now know and remember it.
When the convulsions stopped, I lay on the floor with Charlie sitting next to me. He reached out and slapped me. When I didn’t react he smiled again with is rotten crooked teeth.
“Cool. Just fucking cool.”
He got up on all fours and then crossed his legs and sat on his ass.
“Some of the stun gun should have worn off by now. Dylan? Can you hear me? Nod if you can.”
I nodded.
“Can you speak?”
“Yes.”
“Good. So, I figure I have about an hour before the juice wears off. You will get a second dose at some point. And from there it starts to build up in your system so that each dose lasts longer each time you have it.”
Charlie reached over and gave my right boob a squeeze before continuing.
“Fortunately, we won’t have to force you to take the second dose. Or the third. At least, we don’t think so. Shit. There is so much we don’t know. Isn’t this exciting?”
I lay there listening to him with my unconscious mind, unable to control my body.
“Here I am babbling. You don’t need to know any of this right now. For the moment, you are just a doll. My doll. To play with. Let’s see what you can do. Stand up, doll.”
I felt myself get, unsteadily, to my feet.
“Strip. Everything off. Top first.”
My body pulled my t-shirt over my head and tossed it to the library floor. My bra landed on top of it. My shoes, then my jeans, and my panties were soon on top of them.
I stood there naked in front of Charlie, unable to do anything but obey, as he looked up at me.
“Cool. I am going to do some scientific work first.”
He pulled out his cell phone and started to take pictures of my naked body.
“I know this doesn’t look scientific but trust me we will be using these to help make the final decision on which lucky lady gets to meet The King.”
He walked around me, sometimes taking a picture from several feet away, other times coming in close to get a shot of my breasts, my face, my ass, and my feet.
When he was finished with the photos, Charlie took out a measuring tape from his pocket. The thin man spent several minutes measuring me and writing numbers down on a fresh sheet of paper on the legal pad. When he was completed measuring and writing, he put the tape away and sighed.
“Fuck. I love this part. Not as much as what comes next, but this is pretty good,” he said.
His hands reached out to my breasts and he cupped them. I felt his fingers slide underneath them and then close until they were encircling my nipples. My body let loose a soft sigh.
“Yeah, I bet you do enjoy that. Let’s check downstairs.”
He moved his hands from my breasts down my stomach and in between my legs. He parted my lips, and he inserted a finger inside of me. It went in easily and I could tell that I was aroused by his touch.
“Wet and ready. Too bad I can’t do anything about it tonight.
He stood back up and checked his watch.
“Got about 25 minutes left. The pictures and measurements took longer than expected. Alright, so, um… cool. Get on your knees.”
My body did as he instructed, and I got down on my knees.
“I never get over how much fun this is. A girl like you has never given me the time of day. Now? I get to do whatever I want. Thanks to The King.”
I watched him open his pants and pull them down to reveal a pair of old worn boxers. He pulled those down around his ankles, just like his pants, and his dick sprang up into my face. Even trapped in the back of my own brain, I was surprised to see how big it was. Especially considering how small he was.
“Spit on my dick.”
My body cleared its throat, my mouth filled with saliva that still tasted strongly of the green liquid, and I felt myself lean forward and spit onto his dick. It waved in the air in front of me, hard and strong, belying his small body.
“Good doll. Now use your hands. Jerk me off. Slowly. I don’t want to cum too soon.”
My body raised both hands, put them on his large erect cock, and I started to jerk him off. Even with my brain on autopilot, my body knew exactly what to do. I ran my hands up and down his prick, massaging it slowly.
“Cool. Oh… fuck. That is good. You have some skill, don’t you? You must have had a lot of practice.”
He started to hump my hands, his spit-slick dick sliding in-between my fingers. I felt myself getting wetter between my legs. My body was responding to the stimulus, even if I wasn’t in control.
“Stop. Sit up. I want to titty-fuck you.”
I sat up and my chest was just a little above his dick.
“Titty fuck my dick. Squeeze them together.”
My body did as it was told and soon his dick was sliding up and down between my breasts. I could feel him rubbing against my pale flesh and glazing my tits with precum.
I wanted to stop. I tried to stop. Instead, I found myself enjoying it.
“That feels great. We have,” he said checking is watch, “About 15 minutes left. Better hurry. Put my cock in your mouth. Blow me. Choke yourself a little on it while you do it. That makes me happy.”
My body obeyed and I grasped his prick and shoved it into my mouth. Charlie’s smooth skin forced its way past my lips, between my teeth, and as deep into my head as I could take him. He smelled like he hadn’t showered in days, and it made my stomach roil a little.
I felt the tip pushing hard against the back of my throat.
“Stop moving your head. Let me face fuck.”
My body stopped moving my head.
He grasped my head in both hands and started to pound at my face. I could feel his balls slapping at my chin as he rammed his cock in and out of my waiting mouth. My body responded and I felt my heart quicken.
I was enjoying this.
“Good doll. Deep throat me.”
Leaning forward my body swallowed him in as deep as it could go until the tip of his cock smacked into the back of mouth and then pressed even further into my throat.
I began to make choking sounds and started to shake. I needed air. But I wasn’t in control. He smiled down at me as I choked on his cock. He was loving this.
“Ok, stop. Get off. Take a breath.”
My body leaned back off of him, his prick leaving my mouth, and it started gasping for air. A stream of saliva extended between the head of his cock and my mouth for a moment, then broke apart and fell onto my chest.
“Ok. Blow me again. This time until I cum. Swallow it.”
I leaned forward to take him inside me again, clamped my lips around his warm hard meat, and started to work his prick in and out of my mouth. His skin, damp with my spittle, flowed easily in and out of my head.
“Tease the tip. Use your tongue.”
I sucked his cock while he talked dirty to me. It was arousing me. Hearing him talk like that.
“That’s it. Cool. Suck me. Suck me like I am your master. You are my doll cunt. Mine. You are my favorite in this group. At least so far. I can’t wait. I can’t wait to fuck you. I bet your pussy is fantastic! Go faster… I’m close.”
I sped up. Working his cock deep in my mouth. My tongue swirling around it. He was twitching and jumping inside me.
He was in total control and I was his doll cunt. Between my thighs I could feel wetness running down towards my lower legs.
“Cool…” he said suddenly, almost in a sigh, and came in my mouth. I felt myself gulp down all of it, just as he had ordered.
When the last of his sperm had gone down my throat, he pulled out of me, and then checked his watch. He squatted down so that we were eye-to-eye.
“Not much time. Let’s make this quick. From now on, when you think about me, you will think that I am a nice man. You will tell yourself that I am a nice man. You will think the same thing about Dr. Lawton. We are nice men. And you like to obey nice men. Obey. You will always obey. You will always obey nice men. Understand? Say you understand.”
“I understand.”
“When nice men, like Dr. Lawton and I, tell you to do something, you will do it. You will comply. Your brain will slip away, like a good doll, and you will listen to our instructions and obey. Whenever you feel yourself start to question our orders, you will think about what nice men we are. You will tell yourself that Charlie, and Dr. Lawton, are nice men. And the bad thoughts, the questioning thoughts, will vanish from your mind. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Once we are finished with you, if we tell you to forget something, you will immediately forget it. It will be like it never happened. We will tell you to forget, and then, several minutes later, you will wake up. It will be like you went to sleep. Understand?”
“Yes”
“While I am at it: you will start to understand this material better. You are misapplying the formulas. From this point forward you memory of them will improve. You will see things in a new light. You will feel like you are making progress. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Ok. Cool. This isn’t an exact science, but I think I have about seven minutes. Listen carefully: we spent the last two hours going over formulas. We did nothing else. Just worked on biochemistry. Now get dressed. Go to the bathroom and clean up. Then come back here, sit down, and start reading.”
I did as he told me to. When I came back from cleaning myself up, I sat down and opened the book once again.
Then I felt myself getting very tired and my eyes slipped closed.
“So, you see how the formula works right?”
I shook my head. It felt heavy and everything looked fuzzy.
Across the desk from me sat a man with a patchy beard and glasses. He was holding a piece of paper for me to see and pointing at something written on it.
“You see it, right?” he said tapping the words with his pen.
“I…where am I?”
The man put the paper down on the desk and gave me a concerned look.
“Dylan, are you Ok?”
I shook my head again. I felt so weird.
Where am I?
I looked around the room and saw the book stacks. I’m in a library.
“Dylan? Is something wrong?”
I looked back to the man who was speaking. Thin. Small. His t-shirt had some cartoon character with outlandish breasts on it.
Charlie.
Charlie is his name. He is he is helping me study. But something is wrong. Something about him.
I was afraid of him. He was doing something. Something bad. But I couldn’t remember what it was.
Charlie is a nice man, I thought.
And, since I couldn’t remember why I was afraid, it must not have been that serious.
“Dylan? I’m starting to worry here. Do I need to call someone? Do you need help?”
He put the paper down and reached across the table to take my shoulder. He shook me gently.
“I’m fine,” I said, not really feeling fine.
I shook my head and took a deep breath. My eyes cleared a little and, despite a horrible taste in my mouth, I felt somewhat better.
Where had the taste come from? I looked up and saw that the green bottle that Charlie had sat between us was now empty.
Did I drink it? I must have.
“Did I…. did I drink that?” I asked.
“Yeah, you did. Like an hour ago. You said it tasted great. Don’t you remember?”
I didn’t remember it. In fact, I couldn’t remember anything since… since sitting down and opening my bookbag.
Across the table Charlie was still staring at me with concern. There was something wrong here.
But what? What had happened?
Did Charlie do something to me?
Charlie is a nice man.
“Dylan, did you have a stroke or something?”
“I’m Ok,” I said giving him a smile, “Just a little headache. Too much reading. I am fine.”
He seemed to accept that explanation because he smiled and nodded. There was something in that smile that seemed off, weird, but I didn’t know or understand what it was.
“Cool. Good. Ok, so see this formula here, you misapplied it,” he said picking the paper back up and tapping it again with his pen, “You got it right on the homework, but on the test you didn’t. Watch me work the problem.”
As I watched Charlie, he went over the formula and showed me where I had gone wrong.
“Now you try it,” he said once he had finished.
When I was done, he looked at the results and pronounced it correct.
“Good job. You got it this time. I think we made progress tonight. Do you feel like you have made progress?”
I thought about if for a second. I really couldn’t remember what we had worked on, but I did feel like I understood the material better.
“Yes. I feel like I made progress.”
“Cool,” he said and then sat back in his chair and yawned, “It’s 9:30. I have to go in thirty minutes. Or do you want to take off now and we can pick this up again next week? If you feel like you still need some more tutoring.”
I nodded. I was sure that I was going to need to see Charlie again.
That thought chilled me for a second. I had a brief flash of memory. Of lying on the floor. Of my mouth being forced open.
Charlie is a nice man.
And then the memory was gone.
“Yes,” I said, “I think I will need to see you again.”
“Let’s pack up for the night. Since we only did two and half hours, that will be $30.”
I opened my purse, counted out the bills, and handed over the money.
Ten minutes later we stepped off the elevator together, walked past the security desk, and out into the campus. It was dark, but clear, and the stars were out. It was just starting to really get cold at night, being early October, and I regretted not wearing a jacket or a sweater.
“Well,” Charlie said, “I guess I will see you next Sunday night.”
“Thank you for tonight, Charlie.”
“It’s cool. Oh, while you were in the bathroom, I spoke to the Dr. Lawton. He wants to see you on Tuesday. Around 6:00 PM. Put it in your calendar. Now”
I don’t want to see Dr. Lawton again. Fear and revulsion ran through me.
“I… do I have to? I really don’t want…”
He interrupted me.
“I am a nice man. Dr. Lawton is a nice man. Don’t you like nice men?”
Charlie is a nice man. Dr. Lawton is a nice man.
I opened my phone and added the meeting to my calendar for Tuesday evening with a reminder for that morning.
My stomach churned for a moment at the thought of seeing Dr. Lawton again. I remembered his hand on my thigh.
Dr. Lawton is a nice man.
The bad thoughts drifted away.
Charlie turned and walked the opposite direction from where I was going. I watched him go, still thinking that something was wrong, but unable to think of why.
I turned to walk back to my apartment, only to hear Charlie’s voice from behind me.
“Hey, Dylan. Don’t forget to call Carol. Go ahead and do it now. It’s important. Make sure you tell her that everything was fine. You don’t know why you felt weird.”
I looked back at him, but he I could barely see him in the dark.
How did he know about Carol?
Charlie is a nice man.
I opened my phone and called Carol.
“Hey, it’s me. Everything was fine. I learned a lot. Charlie is a nice man. I’m not sure why I freaked out. We finished up and I am headed home safe. I will see you Tuesday at practice. Text me tomorrow and tell me how your weekend with Chris went. Bye.”
I hung up the phone, put it in my pocket, and walked off towards my apartment.
A flash of memory. Unable to move. My head titled back. A clear plastic bottle filled with something green turning over as Charlie emptied it into my mouth.
Charlie is a nice man.
The bad thoughts vanished as quickly as they had come.