The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Freshman Year

Part 1: Moving In

“Top Prospect Goes to Northern State!” the headline read in the Star-Tribune. Most people’s first day of college includes lectures, orientation, moving in, and other boring things like that. Mine had a parade. All right, it wasn’t just for me, but it’s nice to pretend sometimes, you know? In fact, all of us new athletes were welcomed in with a march through campus, complete with band and cheerleaders. I’d definitely earned it, or at least I was going to. Northern State was going to need my help, because while we had taken national championships in all the fall sports, Lil Lulu’s blunder in the women’s basketball final had been the start of a downhill slide. Yes, baseball made it to the College World Series, but then they lost in the title game on one of the worst foul calls ever, and against my Long Armed Law, no less. Softball made it to their final, but lost to Arizona. And then there was that hockey debacle with the Harvard guys trying to expose our secret with scientific BS.

But I’d put things right again. Me, Kereee-L, in the starting lineup next to Ms. Vickie P. I’d thought about changing my number to coordinate with her, but the more I thought about it, the more I decided that wouldn’t show how great I really was. So I stuck with #17, and if anyone was surprised, they weren’t stupid enough to tell me. As I stood and waved in my convertible headed to the football stadium, I saw Lil Lulu, safely stowed away and unable to do any more damage to our team. She looked so cute with her eyes bright, her face covered in makeup, and her smile bright and plastic. She executed her routine perfectly- of course, because she had nothing else to think about.

As the caravan finished crossing campus, I could see my home, the shining football stadium in the distance. I sat back down and brushed the confetti out of my hair, giving Zoom Zoom Zelda a grin.

She smiled back. “Now that’s what I call a cathedral!” she exclaimed. Yeah, that’s the kind of answer I’d expected from a former Jesus freak.

“And you can even still worship the image in the end zone like those papists in Indiana do,” I countered.

“Only if it’s Tommy Tiptoes up there!” she laughed. Who-oh, right. She’d hooked up with the kicker from the football team. Something about cute little feet- I didn’t even want to know.

“What about us?” I teased her, letting my voice go a little husky. There was something about her transformation from a God-fearing homophobe to a loose bisexual that heated my blood and made me tingle at the great power of Northern State. And it was time for that greatness to be realized again.

“Mmm, that’ll be great when it happens,” she replied, teasing me right back both with her voice and her hand on my ass. She was just a bench player, a change-of-pace speedster to replace Lil Lulu, and not really worthy of my greatness, but her blonde hair and wholesome looks were something I just couldn’t resist.

But that would be for another time, because our cars were pulling into the stadium. We all got off and broke up by team, each freshman class going to the film room, which could probably fit every athlete on campus if needed. When I saw Anson himself standing at the front, I knew we would need to be in trance for this meeting, so Zoom Zoom Zelda grabbed her cross and I took out my special hairbrush, and as I combed myself to sleep I could feel his commands sinking in like gospel truth.

“This year showed less than the greatness we expect at Northern State. But that is why we brought you here. Your coaches will go into detail about what is expected in your specific sport to show how great you truly are. But understand that this class was chosen to put the Bulldogs on top for once and for all. We will not be exposed again. We will not be conquered again. We will be greater than great. We will be Northern State once again, and all others will tremble in fear of our greatness. Fall sports, report to practice. Winter sports will assist the support brigade. Spring sports will fulfill the community tithe. Be great, my young Bulldogs. I expect nothing less.” He ended his speech with a smile and a few loud claps that brought us all awake.

Next stop was the guidance office to get our schedules. I still wanted a first-rate education to go with all of my athletic greatness-after all, didn’t I deserve the best in everything, not just on the court? I walked into the office and stopped short- I recognized that counselor: Miss Peggy, one of the first of Coach Bird’s champions, the one who silenced Tennessee in 1995. I’d been a little kid, but that had been one of my first exposures both to basketball and Northern State. And she was right there- I don’t know if I can describe it to anyone outside our little community. I couldn’t move for a minute, just looking at her.

And then she looked at me and smiled. “You must be Kereee-L! Glad to see you become a part of the Big Red Machine, especially after what happened in Boston.”

“I won’t let that happen again,” I said, impressed with how easily the sentence came out- but then, I was one of Northern State’s great ones now, too. “This is where I get my schedule, right? I was thinking of a science major, maybe physics? It seems to help my game.” After all, Kerry still needed to be fed so she’d leave me the hell alone, and this way I would never have to explain missed free throws to my team. Having that happen, especially deep in the tournament, would be a tragedy, and I didn’t want to end up doing cartwheels next to Lil Lulu.

But Miss Peggy looked at me with something like pity in her eyes and said, “Great athletes don’t have time for complicated classes that won’t help them in their great careers. We offer three tracks for our great ones: geology, physical education, or mind control and manipulation.”

So I could take rocks for jocks, become a lifetime jock, or help us make more jocks great. I was disappointed that they underestimated my ability to multitask, but the word of the Big Red Machine was my law, and my choices narrowed to those three in an instant, the idea of physics slipping away like I’d never considered it at all, and it seemed kind of ridiculous the more I looked at it.

“Mind control and manipulation seems to be the most challenging. I’ll give that a try.”

She noted that down, her expression never changing. “Minor in English, psych, biology, or engineering?”

Ah, now we were into methods. I could guess at what each minor was code for, so I had to figure out which one fit me best. Of course, going for them all would be the best and most effective, so I said, “Psychology.”

“Great choice. Here’s your schedule for the first quarter before basketball practice begins,” Miss Peggy said, tapping a few keys and printing out a schedule.

“Okay, so Tuesdays and Thursdays I’ve got Basic Human Psychology at eleven, then space for the afternoon game- or studying if there’s no game that day? Media Relations at five, which I guess lets out just in time for a night game, okay. Then English on Monday and Friday, and Principles of Mind Control 101 at two-thirty ‘til six- A. Barnett, is that who I think it is? I didn’t know he taught class! This is going to be great! Wednesday’s a travel day for road trips, and-what’s this mean on Saturday?”

“Coordinating the student tailgates,” she explained.

“Ah, okay. Not a bad fifteen-credit schedule- thanks so much!”

Miss Peggy smiled, and this wasn’t the automatic, plastic grin she’d given me when I came in, the one she probably gave to every student who needed guidance. “Your mother raised you well. Most of your peers don’t care enough to thank me. I know you’ll do great things here.”

Great. That word hit me with even more force, taking me over, wiping away any of Kerry’s past aspirations and leaving me focused on the tasks ahead. I must have sat there for a few minutes, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the year, before Miss Peggy called me to attention. “Team meeting first, then head off to your dorm. I’ve got more of you people coming in.”

“Oh, um, sorry, ma’am.”

“No problem. I appreciate the athlete who basks in her greatness for a time before heading off. It makes what I helped build even more worthwhile.” Her smile turned dreamy, and she started looking off into the past. I must have looked just as dopey when I came out of the office and started along the path through the basement, past every sport Northern State offered, both men’s and women’s. I thought I’d get lost- after all, I’d only been there one weekend- but the route was seared into my brain. I could find anywhere on campus from anywhere else on campus.

I could feel someone looming behind me. “Hey there. Pick your major yet? I’m doing physical education. Can’t end up fat by accident during the offseason,” Mega Mandy said.

“Me, I want to teach others to be great,” I replied with a wink. Heading into the locker room, we found no one in uniform- well, at least not on-court uniform. The only ones who weren’t wearing blue jeans and red golf shirts were the other two freshmen, Zoom Zoom Zelda and Coo Coo Coco. The notes on the chalkboard made it look more like a student council meeting than a basketball team meeting.

“Welcome, class of 2010! Please don’t be surprised that we’re not prepared for on-court practice. NCAA rules keep us from starting practice yet. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be great, right?”

“RIGHT!” we shouted back.

“Before we can practice again, we’ll help the other teams be great. This year, we need to band together more than ever, thanks to a certain cheerleader who will not be named.”

“As long as they keep her away from our games. That dumb fuckup would fall off the pyramid and land on someone’s head,” Ms. Vickie P said.

Coach Bird ignored her and continued, “I’m going to leave you ladies alone for a little while to build some team chemistry, and to divide up your offseason duties.” He got up from his stool and left the room.

The second the door closed behind him, Ms. Vickie P was on the stool, erasing the board with a few broad strokes and vibrating with energy. “Zoom Zoom Zelda, you’re the God girl, right?”

“I was! That wasn’t nearly as great as this! I like abominations before God just as much as anything now,” Zoom Zoom Zelda replied, obviously worked up from her arrival, staring intently at any crotch she could get her eyes on and sitting on her hands to keep her clothes on. When she looked at me, she looked like she was trying to fuck me with her eyes. I wouldn’t have minded, but, hello? Team meeting, slightly more important than pussy. That was the difference between a bench player and a starter. One of us had the necessary self-control, the other didn’t.

“Need to get out of those warm-ups? Can’t say I blame you. But we’ll work on that later. Right now, we’re talking about you joining the student body committee to spread our great religion across campus and to the rest of town. You’ll also be making sure we don’t have any... let’s call ‘em stragglers in the student population. There’s always some moron who thinks they can get away with wearing Michigan gear in here, or worse.” Ms. Vickie P smirked, and I had to wonder what could be worse than Big Ten rivals setting up shop in our territory.

“Ohh, I see,” Zoom Zoom Zelda said with a naughty smile. She obviously still needed to relieve some pressure. So did Mega Mandy and Coo Coo Coco. Actually, so did I, but I hid my tingling better than the rest of the freshmen. Not saying much, I know.

“Now, Mega Mandy and Coo Coo Coco, you’re our posts, so you’ll be in charge of all decorations and pep rallies. We want to make sure everyone can see you, and that everything is properly in place.”

“Yes, Great One,” they chorused. I squirmed a little more.

“Ker-eee-L,” Ms. Vickie P said, turning to me, and she looked more serious and intense than ever. “Since you’ll be a starter next year, you’ll be in charge of the Dawghouse this quarter.” A few of the upperclassmen winced slightly, and someone muttered, “Good luck, you’ll need it.”

“Now that we’ve got that all taken care of, we need our freshmen to look the part before they get to the dorms, so...” The words were barely out of Ms. Vickie P’s mouth when I found myself wearing Zelda’s jacket- over my head as she tore off her clothes and ran into the shower. “That’s it, that’s great,” Ms. Vickie P. continued. I was getting hotter by the second, as every repetition of great from the last few hours hit me again. A delayed reaction- of course! How clever of them. Or how clever of me. But there were some disadvantages to that, because I tried to get up, and that didn’t work well, and when I tried to take the first step towards the showers, that really didn’t work so well. Collapsing to the ground in a heap of molten lust had been in the cards, but I’d been hoping to get out of the locker room first, and maybe do my collapsing between a pair of soft legs.

“Yeah, you aren’t as great as I am yet. But you will be. Ohhh, you will be,” Ms. Vickie P whispered in my ear as she helped me out of my clothes and into the shower. I expected the upperclassmen to follow, since they seemed to never miss a good little molten sundae, but to my surprise they continued their planning. Not that I cared for long. Like the rest of my freshman teammates, I spread my legs and tried to relieve myself as best as I could with my hands. My vision faded as I dreamed about all the greatness that this season would bring in all the fall sports, becoming focused on building the student section up so that no opponent would even want to beat Northern State, lest they face the consequences, let alone dare to try.

But in one clear moment between fingerings, I understood why I was so aroused. It drew me deeper into the Bulldog way of life, and not just with my teammates, because there was more to the Big Red Machine than just the athletes. We wouldn’t be as great as we could be without the rest of the program, without the cheerleaders, without the band, without the student section. They helped us stay great, and we had to help them stay great- it was our way of giving back to the school, and it was a year-round job. I even started planning when my thoughts were interrupted. Not that I minded the nice warm tongue in my slit. “Ohhh, yes! Oh, Great One, make me great! Make me so great! I’m just a lowly freshman! Make me great, Ms. Vickie P!” I moaned, eyes shut so tight I was seeing spots. When I reached out to dare to touch her hair, I found- nothing.

Okay, what the hell? I opened my eyes- just for a moment, and just a little bit, and my vision was really blurry, and I was still being eaten out with exceptional skill. What I saw wasn’t enough to break the heat, but it did jar my brain back to reality. The little cheerleader was still fully clothed, licking away without a care in the world, her mind obviously so wiped that the only thought left in there was how to pleasure me as much asn as fast as possible. I petted her glossy black hair, recognizing who it was- Lucy Chen, turned into a Northern State spirit doll.

I knew exactly what Ms. Vickie P was doing, and while my body didn’t care whose tongue that was, my mind recognized that I had to let Ms. Vickie P know what kind of prank she was pulling. “Does Little Miss Butterfingers need something sticky to help her grip things better? I have just the thing,” I said just loudly enough to be heard outside the showers. I pushed away her mouth and guided her right hand into me. My good little sex slave climbed up to get a better position and hammered away at me with two fingers. And lo, it was good. My eyes rolled up in my head in total ecstasy, and I drifted off into the glorious dream of being taken at midfield. To this day, I don’t know how many times I came, but it was a lot.

I didn’t wake up for another good half hour, judging from my pruny fingers as the water splashed over me. But at least I was nice and clean, thanks to the sponge-holding cheerleaders, who were still in soaked uniforms that clung nicely to their assets, and covered in cute little soap suds. I came to with the understanding that for now I was not just a basketball player, and nor was anyone else on the team. I was part of the spirit-building team for Northern State athletics, as was every other athlete who was a quarter away from starting their sport. With the help of a couple of handy cheerleaders, I toweled off and changed into blue jeans and a red golf shirt, then moved along to where the dorms were being assigned, following the path like a wind-up doll.

The line snaked up and down the hall and into the elevator to the luxury boxes. Freshmen got the inside layer of boxes that didn’t overlook the stadium, and I entered the one I’d been assigned to without hesitation. The suite was impressively large, with plenty of room for four of us. My roommates looked to have been selected at random, judging from the array of sports: a redhead in full soccer uniform and full game focus; a blonde in a red and blue tee from the Northern State girls’ softball camp with matching practice shorts; and a black woman with long dreadlocks and longer legs that were already giving me ideas.

Not that I was able to really think about this as deeply as it sounds. Programming for the fall quarter was still soaking in, and most of my attention was devoted to that. I must have been as glassy-eyed and blank-faced as they were, and I know I was just as unable to muster up a “Hi, how are ya?” It felt like a long four-way staring contest to see who would recover first. The long-legged black woman won, blinking and stretching luxuriously.

“Reshia the Rushtafarian, 200 and 400 meter sprints and long jump for all seasons of track,” she said with a lilting Jamaican accent. I woke up enough to give her a hug and cop a feel, both of which returned me to something I could think of as normal.

“Ker-eee-L, guard, women’s basketball,” I said by way of introduction. I decided not to mention just yet that I would be starting. I didn’t want them to be too overwhelmed by my greatness, at least not until the first time I needed the shower.

“Very nice. I thought I could try out, but winter track is short, and Coach Bird isn’t much for walk-ons.”

“Besides, bringing in players from track scholarships is soo not great, that’s a UNC trick,” I said with a taunting chuckle.

Big mistake. The soccer player immediately freaked out, flying into the air, kicking me in the shins (and in cleats that hurts like hell), and shrieking, “UNC! Must destroy UNC! We’re greater than any of them could ever be!” She was clearly off in another world. She jerked awkwardly, planted her foot into my backpack, and sent it flying through the doorway. “GOAAAAAAAAAAAL!” she shouted, flinging her arms around the softball player, which woke the softball player up, but not the soccer player.

“Holy shit! Wake up! Game’s not until tomorrow! Save it for then! Don’t need you stubbing your toe and missing the game!” I yelled, shaking the soccer player.

That finally woke her up, and as she blinked awake, her arms dropped uselessly at her sides. “Wha? Huh? Where am I?”

“Dorm room. It’s okay, you were just a little too excited for the opener tomorrow, and I, um, said the wrong thing, which I’m not going to say again because I don’t want to get kicked,” I said.

“Oh. Um, sorry. I’m Nutmeg Fox, defender, soccer. Sorry, last thing I remember is being in the shower with a foot between my legs.” She didn’t shake my hand when I put it out there, so I hugged her instead.

“Can’t use your arms during the season, I take it? Man, you soccer girls are really into it!” the softball player said with a musical laugh. “K-Moll, pitcher, softball.” Softballs were right. Right then and there I sent up a quick prayer that she never gave up a walk-off home run or blew out her elbow, because she’d be in a cheerleader’s top faster than you could say Northern State.

“No more than any of us during our seasons. Only cross country runs in the fall, so I was spared, but I left my countrywoman running in place in the office,” Reshia said, sounding a little embarrassed and hiding her face behind her dreadlocks.

I grinned, then checked the time. I needed to get over to the Dawghouse in a hurry. But as I headed down, I decided I could get a little distracted. After all, my Long Arm Law was out there- at last, after all the time I’d spent dreaming about him and fantasizing about him, my training could kick in. I ran up to him and gave him a nice, proper greeting, and he replied just as enthusiastically.

After a few minutes, when he’d managed to get his hands out of my jeans and indicated that I should give his tongue back, he said, “So I guess you still love me after that little issue with Oregon State?”

“My side craving’s for pussy, not beaver! You were robbed! That hit the fair pole!” I yelled before I could stop myself.

“I love you too. You know, our manager took third base and gave it to me after he got thrown out for arguing with the ump. I got it in my room. After I’m done doing the baseball clinic for the grade school kids, you can come by and I’ll show it to you.”

It sounded good. Anything he said sounded good. And if I didn’t have responsibilities, I would have been there in a second. “Maybe another time, sweetie, but I can’t today. Can you tell me where the Dawghouse is? I’m supposed to organize them for the soccer game on Saturday.”

“Oh, my! Yeah, I know where it is- here, you go down the main road about half a mile, and you’ll be able to spot it. I got a buddy who just moved in there- used to be El Rey del Shortstop, but one of those bastards from Penn State beaned him in the head. Don’t worry, I got my licks in on that asshole, and at least I won’t end up drafted by the Pirates! Say hi to Rey-Rey, and, well, you may want this, just in case you walk in on target practice.”

He popped his batting helmet on my head and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is. I was still smiling from ear to ear when I found the Dawghouse. Not that a giant doghouse with Northern State blue walls and a red roof was hard to find. At least I thought the walls were blue. It was hard to tell, what with all the old posters and team logos plastered on them. There was a “Beware of Dawg” sign planted on the lawn, a “Parking for Northern State Fans ONLY!” sign hanging over the garage, and a hand-painted “Welcome to the DawgHouse: Non Northern State Fans Need Not Apply” sign over most of the front door. I wasn’t surprised when I rang the doorbell and it played the Northern State fight song, and I almost wasn’t surprised when the guy who opened the door was painted, wigged, and collared in team colors.

Okay, until he dropped to his knees and started barking.

“Um, hi. I’m—”

“KERRR-EEEEE-L, our new savior!” he howled. A girl could get used to that kind of adoration. “Replacing Super Stacy’ll be hard, but you can do it. And as for that little nothing Chen, don’t worry, I gave her a nice little dose of my spirit before they made her a cheerleader!”

The guys in the back chuckled. The girls buried their faces in their hands. That was about the only normal thing about them- or, at least, the only thing I would have thought was normal before I came to Northern State. It only made sense that every furnishing, every decoration, every item I could see was either Northern State red, Northern State blue, a Northern State bulldog, or, well, a Northern State Bulldog- they had posters and photos of every athlete to wear the colors in the last twenty years. This was pride. This was passion. This was Northern State, and even through the stink of stale pizza and old beer, I loved every second of it. “So what’s your name, anyway?” I asked him.

“Oh, I’m Spike, top dawg in the house. Senior, majoring in sports management, with twenty-five kills to my name,” he replied with the appropriate barking from his friends.

“So you play volleyball?” I asked. He seemed tall enough, and the name fit.

“Nuh-uh. I mean I had twenty-five players run home to their mommies, quit the sport, or otherwise get out of our hair since I got here,” he said gleefully.

“Impressive. Great, even,” I said. More barking. “I’m supposed to organize you for the fall schedule.”

“You’re our kennel keeper for the quarter? Makes sense. Teeny Tammy’s upstairs booking travel, so you’re gonna want to meet her soon. The boys are upstairs working on our chants, and Timmy Triple Double’s taking care of our special freshman orientation in the basement.”

“Let me guess, beer bongs and paddles?”

“Something like that,” Spike replied with a grin and the Greek chorus of barking behind him.

“No time to waste, if you guys are already making your plans. I better get to work with you on assigning who goes where.” Spike nodded agreement, and I tried not to loudly let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. Except for the barking, Spike seemed like a nice enough guy, but something told me I didn’t want to miss a shot with him in attendance.

“Sure. Let me introduce you to everyone. Might take a while-there’s ‘bout fifty of us here, and we reach out through the student body. That’s my sister Fifi on the cell over there.” He pointed at a pretty girl on the phone, painted the same way he was.

“I can see the family resemblance,” I replied. A few people laughed.

I could hear her yelling into the phone now, not just talking. “HEY, KENNY G! How great are you now, bitch! We lose one game and you transfer? How great is that? Don’t worry, we got a going away present for you, bitch!” She held up one of the small speakers from the sound system and indicated that someone should turn it up. ‘80s jazz blared into the cell phone, and the room, at a deafening, bone-jarring volume that almost drowned out the derisive laughter and barking from everyone in the room. Fifi closed the phone and put it down on the end table, still chuckling. When she saw me, she got a big smile on her face, came over, and hugged me.

Fortunately for my wardrobe, her “paint” was just a ski suit, but it was still kinda creepy. I suddenly flashed to the mental image of a closet full of them, like in cartoons. “So you’re the hotshot freshman who’s gonna replace Super Stacy! Nice to meet you! I’m Spike’s little sister- sophomore, probably going to major in journalism. You’re going to love it here! I mean, I didn’t even like sports in high school, but when I came here to see my brother, I really got into it. Sorry you had to hear that call, though. Some dumb bitch left school after... last year... and wasn’t careful enough about her cell number. I thought we could remind her of what she was missing out on.”

She seemed almost... normal. For a given value of normal that included calling up former classmates and inflicting soft jazz on them while wearing a red and blue ski suit in early September. But there was something about her I couldn’t put my finger on, and then it hit me- she had curves. She didn’t have muscles. The rest of them looked like jocks from Central Casting, but she didn’t. Then I remembered what my Long Armed Law had said about his friend who joined the Dawghouse when he got hit in the head with a fastball. “You guys have a Rey here?”

“Rey-Rey? The new guy? Yeah, but I wouldn’t disturb him right now,” Fifi said.

“Oh. One of his former teammates wanted me to say hi to him, and I’m going to have to meet everyone if I’m going to assign them to games.” I put a little extra assertiveness in my voice, reminding everyone of my place in the pecking order. I might have been a lowly freshman, but I was one of Northern State’s great athletes, and while our fans helped make us great, ultimate greatness came down to performance on the court. Spike might have been top dawg, but in this group I was the alpha bitch.

“All right,” Fifi said after looking to her brother for permission. “He’s in his room.” She led me upstairs, and as we went down the long hallway, I could hear a lightly-accented voice.

“Ya, you like futból, no? So do I! You play my school tomorrow, and I just can’t wait to see you on the field. What did your coach call it, nutmeg practice? So what did he do to you? Did he lay you on the bleachers or did he drive your vulva in the back of your mom’s Volvo? Oh, that sounds like a song! Vulva-driving soccer bitch! Ohhh, but did you like it? Did you come or do you wanna go?”

Charming. I got the feeling I didn’t want to know the context. The door opened, and I got a good look at Rey. He was shorter than I’d thought, and the little pencil mustache did nothing for him. He was wearing the usual amount of red and blue, but no paint. “You gotta be Long Armed Law’s girl! He said you’d be here. I was just leaving a message for Annie Wayne- you know, striker for UNC? Her youth coach was a real freak- I thought she’d want to remember.”

My stomach churned, but not as much as it did when Fifi replied, “That all you got? I didn’t even get damp. I knew Avery should have handled this. We’ll just have to save it for gameday.” She turned and bellowed down the hall, “AVERY! We need you!”

A few moments later, the second cutest guy I’d ever seen in my life entered the room, wearing a Northern State hockey jersey and tight blue jeans. If I’d seen him in the catalogue, I might have had to think twice before picking out my Long Armed Law, with that short brown hair begging for a girl to run her fingers through it, and that beard on the sexy kind of scruffy, and those broad shoulders, and you know what they say about guys with big hands and big feet.

“We’re working on Annie Wayne- you know, the striker whose youth coach was a perv?” Fifi said.

“And hanged himself, to boot,” Avery added with a nasty little smile. “Let’s see... ‘We heard your coach was dead, did you at least give good head, sorry he’s dead, I’m sure you miss him in bed, we don’t judge you, but we won’t pretend, at least we didn’t give it up at TEN!’”

Kerry would have gone looking for the bathroom right about then, but I wasn’t that weak-willed little high schooler anymore. I still felt a little uneasy, though- after all, weren’t we great enough to beat them on the field without having to resort to tactics like this? But Fifi was smiling and laughing, and Rey had a grin on his face while he scribbled it down. “Thanks, Avery, you’re the best!” Fifi said with a little squeal, and she threw her arms around him.

“Any time, babe,” he said with a smug smile, and he headed back down the hall.

“Don’t you think that’s a little extreme? We’ll embarrass them enough with our greatness on the field.”

Fifi looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “That? That was nothing! C’mon back downstairs and Spike’ll show you our wall of shame. Fifty transferred to a school too ungreat for us to even consider playing, another fifty gave up the sport after playing us, then there’s the two dozen who ‘magically’ suffered career-ending injuries after playing us, and let’s not forget the five suicides.” She straightened with pride, and as repulsed as part of me was, the rest of me was impressed and empowered by my opponents’ weakness.

Then the fire alarm went off, and I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. “Fuck! We got some bitch here in Michigan State gear!” Spike yelled. Everyone came flying out of their rooms and stampeded downstairs. Before I could cut my way through the crowd, someone had turned off the fire alarm and a whole lot of someones had bound and gagged the intruder.

“Note to self: never take the Dawghouse by surprise,” I muttered.

“So, advisor, what should we do to her?” Spike asked eagerly.

“Hmmm,” I said noncommittally, trying to figure out how she’d gotten there in the first place. “How ‘bout we let her go with a stern warning?”

Everyone laughed loud and long- yeah, I’d kinda thought that was going to happen. I looked to the others for a little help, but I kept fixing on the intruder’s sweatshirt, that godawful green and white that practically screamed denial of our greatness, and the more I saw of it, the angrier I got at the nerve of this girl, showing up to our great school in enemy colors. Something had to be done, and I was the one to do it. “So what does she have to say for herself?”

“Mmph, mmph, mmph, I think,” Rey cackled.

“Let’s see if she can come up with anything more coherent, or if Michigan State academics are as pathetic as their athletics,” I said, ripping the duct tape from her mouth as hard as I could.

“Owwww!” she whined. “Ugh! My God, my brother goes here and I helped him move in! And for that one of you twerps eggs my car and you fuckers kidnap me and tie me up like some kind of kinky bondage game? You’re going to hear from my family’s lawyers, and you’d better believe my brother will be out of here as soon as he hears what happened to me.” She tried to squirm out of the ropes, but she wasn’t strong enough to get out of them, and after a few moments of that, she realized just how much of a thrill some of the boys were getting from her struggles.

“Oh, I see. You’re, what, a junior? Would you like to transfer here? No hassle, promise,” I suggested. She spit in my face in response. That was the last mistake I’d ever let her make. I’d have been satisfied if she’d accepted our greatness and transferred here as an ordinary student, just another conquest on my record, but not after that. She was going to get it if it was the last thing I did.

“Shouldn’t have done that. We don’t take that kind of insult lightly, and ol’ Seven’s hungry,” Spike said eagerly.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I said, eyeing her chest.

But Avery voiced the suggestion before I could. “And waste those tits? Oh, not a chance. I’ve always liked screamers.”

The woman started tearing up, afraid of what Avery and the eager-looking boys behind him might do that could be worse than having a dog tear into her. “Please don’t hurt me! I’ll go peacefully!” she wailed.

Well, that was enough for me to know what to do- but I didn’t know how to do it yet. A pixie-like brunette in a red-and-blue leotard leaned over and whispered in my ear- well, actually, whispered in my armpit, “Get her trust while Timmy Triple Double gets the transfer forms and proper outfit. Have Spike do something useful and get his beer bong. I’ll get something out of the chem lab to put in it.”

I liked the idea. I more than liked it, judging from the sudden dampness in my jeans. I untied the woman’s arms, but not her legs, which allowed her to start trying to whale on me. I was able to dodge her weak slaps and pathetic punches and start calming her down. “Sorry about these guys, they’re a little... over the top sometimes. I mean, wearing green and white here was going to incite something, but, yeah, they went too far. Look, how about this? If you complete one little bet, I’ll escort you out of here and keep you out of trouble, no questions asked. I wouldn’t even make you do that, but if these frat boys don’t see something, they’ll just jump you in the parking lot. At least this way you can keep some of your dignity and be sure that you’re safe,” I said as persuasively as possible.

“Depends on what I have to do, and what happens if I lose,” she replied smartly. A quick mind. Shame it went with a pair of tits like that, because it was going to get erased.

“One hit from the beer bong. If you hold it down, you can go. If not... you’ll still go, but dressed as a Northern State cheerleader, changing in full view of everyone. Spew up before you even finish, you gotta change on the front lawn.”

“Pfft, that’s all?” she scoffed. “I’ve done more back at my place. As long as I get to load the bong myself- you’re not slipping me any mickies! And don’t think I won’t press charges once I get home either way!”

“I understand,” I assured her. I almost had her in the trap. She’d taken the bait like she’d been in on the script. “I’m reporting it to our officials too. Stuff like this makes me sick- anyone who’d do the stuff they threatened to someone who was just wearing the wrong gear should be thrown out of school, or my name’s not Kerry Longmire.” Of course, almost fucking the whole thing up by forgetting my ordinary name didn’t help. As far as she knew, my name wasn’t Kereee-L, even if that was my name deep inside.

She gave me a weak little smile, and I knew we had her. I wasn’t quite sure how we had her, but the little brunette had been very confident. Someone was working on something that would make the terms of the bet very, very real. Almost as soon as I thought that, the brunette walked back in, holding a bottle of dark green liquid, and I finished untying our guest. “It’s even in team colors for this Spartan bitch!” the brunette said with a triumphant sneer.

“Damn, what is that stuff?” the woman said, starting to worry.

“Oh, just our version of Gatorade. Tastes like crap, and no one’s gonna want to kiss you for a few hours, but there’s no booze in it. Just down that, and as long as you keep it down for five minutes, that’s it, and I’ll escort you out.” I had no idea what that stuff was, but I needed to give her some challenge, because Spike was eyeing a bottle of tequila on one of the tables, and something told me this would not be a very good idea.

“Oh, if that’s all it is, I can chug it without the bong!” the woman scoffed. Spike opened his mouth to protest, but the brunette glared up at him, and he shut up. I was getting to like her.

“CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!” we chanted as the woman downed the bottle in record time. Fifi clicked a stopwatch to start the five minutes.

I leaned down to the brunette. “Um, what did we just do?” I whispered.

“Nanite water. It’s my final project with my lab partner Ally. It’s not strong enough to do anything noticeable, just enough to put her in a weak trance and make her very suggestible,” she whispered back.

“Thanks...” I trailed off, prompting her to fill in her name.

“Teeny Tammy,” she supplied. “But enough about me. Why don’t you reassure our... guest?”

I know how to take a cue, and I sat down on the couch next to the woman. “So, we’ve got... four minutes and eleven seconds to kill. Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

She had the cutest little smirk. It was adorable how she thought she was going to defeat us. “Well, it’s not like you’re going to need it later, but I can be gracious. Name’s Teresa, and let me tell you, you’re gonna be the talk of the town when I get back to campus. When it gets out what sweet, wholesome, great—” was that a shiver? “Kerry Longmire made me do, you’re gonna be in so much trouble...”

“Great? You say the nicest things for someone from a rival school. Thanks for the compliment. You’re doing great so far. No ill effects. Everything’s going great, right?”

“Yeah, I feel fine... very... fine... yeah... great.” Oh, this was excellent, and I was going to need a new pair of panties when I got home. Teresa there couldn’t even hear how her voice was flattening out, and I would have bet that she neither could nor wanted to move her arms and legs, as long as the bet didn’t involve me drinking any mysterious liquids. As I watched, her face started to go slack, her eyes widening and her pupils growing bigger.

“Yeah, and you look great too,” I added. She shivered again. So the word was starting to have an effect on her, but if Teeny Tammy’s magic potion was as good at its job as Teeny Tammy had been at hers, we’d be seeing a much more interesting reaction at the end of the five minutes.

As Teresa zoned out, she became an even less interesting conversationalist than she had before, so it was no big hardship for me to wait out the next couple of minutes in silence until the watch in Fifi’s hand beeped. “Time’s up, Teresa. You held it down. Great job. See you at the games- remember who helped you out of this mess,” I said to her. No response. “Come on, are you ready to go?” She didn’t move a muscle. “Would you like to stay here?” But she was too far gone to speak, her eyes empty, her mouth falling open.

The guy in the Northern State basketball jersey who’d been hovering in the doorway while we did this little dance came into the room, holding a sheaf of papers and a dance team outfit. “Someone her... size... goes on the dance team, not the cheer squad,” he explained. I pictured Teresa’s breasts in that sparkling tube top and had to keep myself from drooling too obviously.

“All right, Teresa. You’re obviously too drunk to leave, therefore you lost the bet, and you’re going to become a cheerleader. Understand?”

“Drunk... lost... cheerleader...” Teresa droned out, and there was a little edge of something in her words, maybe a hint of arousal.

“Good girl. Now, lie down,” I ordered her. She spread out on the couch, and soon her eyes slid shut. “Yes, that’s great.” And suddenly that foul green and white sweatshirt came flying off. The breasts were even nicer than I’d thought, and not drooling was getting really difficult. The Dawghouse might have forgiven me the lapse, but I had to prove my greatness.

“Of course, we built a few triggers into the programming,” Teeny Tammy said with obvious pride.

“I see that. So what happens if I say really great?” Teresa’s bra hit me in the face. “I... see. Spike, why don’t you put this with the other trophies I know you have around?” While Spike took the bra and sweatshirt for God only knew what purpose, I sat Teresa up and squeezed her into the tube top. If it took longer than it should have, none of the Dawghouse were about to question my privileges or complain about the show. Then I took off her jeans and panties and rolled on the super tight pants. Now she looked the part.

“Can we help?” Avery asked with a devilish glint in his eye.

“Nice try, A, but she’s property of the athletic department now,” Teeny Tammy replied. “It’s off to the dorms for her.”

I picked up the cue and left with her, Teresa following behind like some kind of kinky stray dog. “So, you know how we make the cheerleaders complete dolls?” Teeny Tammy asked.

“Yeah, they OD on the conditioning.”

She nodded. “Let me guess, MCM? Got it in one. Let’s get her into the cheerleading office—” she led Teresa into the cheerleading office and shut the door- “and start eating her alive. Each time she comes she falls deeper, until she finally hits rock bottom. That’s at about a hundred. Relax, you don’t have to do it all yourself. Trust me, there’ll be plenty of volunteers to help her in her time of need.” She undid the pants it had taken me so long to get on Teresa and gestured that I should take the first shot at her.

It might not have seemed like the appropriate role, but knowing that I was helping her realize our greatness got me off enough to make it worthwhile. I got her off a few times before Teeny Tammy shoved me out of the way and took her turn. I’m not that big on watching, so I went back to my dorm room. My roommates were all out, but there was someone familiar waiting for me- my old classmate TC Trivia.

“How’d you like your first day?” she asked.

“It was wonderful! Our fans are crazy, but in the best way,” I replied.

“What is excellent?” she said, and it was nice that she hadn’t lost the habit of answering everything in the form of a question. It would serve her well when she took the Jeopardy! test, which reminded me that I was supposed to help her study for the rest of the night, if you know what I mean.

When I said everything was in the form of a question... I meant everything.