The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“GATORS! WOOOOOOOOOO!” The cry went up in the commons room and passed down the hall, carried from student to student like a rippling wave. Kimmie joined in as she heard it, raising her warm beer into the air and hollering as she headed deeper into the frat house.

It was a great time to be alive, she thought. Gators won the game today, she didn’t have to worry about class until Monday morning, she had a beer in her hand, and Darren was wearing those tight pants that outlined his crotch perfectly, and damn, did he look fine. If there was a better time to be a sophomore, she couldn’t think of it. She took another gulp of her beer as she edged into the room where Jake had told her she could find Darren.

He was sitting on the couch with three of his frat brothers, all of them drunkenly waving their arms in the air as they played ‘Wii Sports’. She leaned over the back of the couch, right next to Darren, and was rewarded with the sight of his character completely ignoring the tennis ball as it whipped past him. “So, Darren,” she said, “I think I might have had a little too much to drink earlier.” She wiggled her cup, draining it of the last of the beer. “I’m in no shape to drive.” She was within walking distance of the sorority house and they both knew it, but if Darren had any sense, he wouldn’t bring it up.

“Sure, babe,” he said, setting down the Wiimote. “I can give you a ride home.” Earlier, he’d been matching her drink for drink, and she saw more than a few empty cups on the floor, but she figured he was probably fine to drive. Guys had more body mass, or tolerance or something. She gave him a little smile, and made sure to stand up just a little bit after he did, giving him a nice view of a very impressive cleavage.

“Dude,” said the guy who’d been on Darren’s team in the doubles match, “we’re not done! Bros before hos, man!”

Darren looked down at him, and then back over at Kimmie. “Have you seen her, dude?” he said, pulling out his car keys. Kimmie gave a little giggle, and the two of them headed out through the crowds of party-goers onto the street, followed by several more cheers for the victorious Florida Gators.

The drive to Phi Gamma Beta only took a minute or two before Darren pulled into the parking lot and stopped his car. He made no motion to get out, though. Neither did Kimmie. She just looked over at him and smiled. She could see the bulge in his pants, and she reached out her hand to caress it. “Thanks so much, Darren,” she said, her voice syrupy. “You probably saved my life. If only there was...” She made contact with the fabric, and felt him buck up just a little under her touch. “...some way to repay you.”

“I think I got a way, babe,” he said, unzipping his pants and adjusting the fly to let his cock spring out. Kimmie leaned over into the seat and took his cock in her mouth. Damn, but it tasted nice. Saturday nights had to be the best night of the week. She took him all the way in, deep-throating him for long moments as she bobbed her head up and down.

“Oh, that’s nice, babe,” he said, his hips thrusting just a little. Kimmie decided she’d done enough teasing. She climbed into his lap and straddled his crotch, taking just a moment to make sure her skirt didn’t get in the way of the action. No panties, of course; they told the joke about “Phi Gamma Beta” standing for “Panties Gone Bye-Bye” for a good reason. Kimmie reached down and guided him in with one hand. It felt so good when his cock slipped into her pussy, all ten inches of it. He just filled her up so right.

“Oh, fuck yeah, babe, fuck...” He grabbed her titties and squeezed hard as she bucked up and down on him. The steering wheel dug into her back and the parking brake dug up against her knee, but that cock inside her felt so good she didn’t care. Kimmie loved it like this, hard and fast and nasty where anyone walking by could see, and her clit just kind of sparked where his cock rubbed it.

She felt herself building up, her voice whimpery with lust as she said, “Oh, oh yeah fuck me harder, fuck me so hard,” and she wanted to call out his name but the way his cock was pumping into her snatch made it so hard to think, and she didn’t want to say the wrong one. Guys got sensitive about that. So she just moaned, “Oh, God, you’re so big,” and she knew she’d said the right thing when he started fucking her even harder, and her back slammed against the steering wheel hard enough to set the horn off when she came.

He didn’t last much more than a second or two after that, and Kimmie felt a little surge of pride as he came inside her. No guy lasted long when her pussy really started squeezing the cum out of them. She slipped off of him, savoring that freshly-fucked feeling. The buzz from the alcohol mingled with the afterglow in her head, making her more than a little woozy. “Mmm,” she said softly as she rolled back into her own seat, “that was niiiiice.”

Darren tucked his cock back into his pants. “Yeah, thanks, babe,” he said. “Want me to walk you in?”

She smiled flirtatiously and gave a little nod. “Yeah,” she said. “Just in case there are any perverts out there.”

She didn’t really expect there to be any. It was kind of a surprise when she bumped into the little skinny guy with the thick glasses, standing out on the sidewalk with some stupid thing that looked kind of like a big calculator. She kind of recognized him, too, but she couldn’t think from where. They had a class together or something, though. “Hey!” Darren said, and the guy jumped guiltily. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing out here?”

“Um,” the guy said, in a nasal voice, “just calibrating some data. We’re just testing a project, and we’re at kind of a delicate point. I was just out here collecting some information about range and energy levels, just stuff we need to make sure the project—”

Darren walked right up to the twerp, his hands clenched into fists, letting his muscles show. “Yeah, the fucking Peeping Tom project, that’s what! Fucking perv!” He slapped the calculator out of the little geek’s hand, sending it skittering across the sidewalk. The guy let out a strangled yelp and chased after it. Picking it up, he ran off with a terrified expression on his face.

“Fucking nerd,” Darren said angrily. “Why the fuck do they even come to Florida? Why doesn’t he just go to some fucking geek factory like MIT instead of clogging up Greek Row with their stupid lame-o frat?”

“You recognized him?” Kimmie said as they headed up to the door.

“Yeah, that’s Greg Hancock.” He laughed. “More like Hand-Cock. He’s in a frat that takes in all the rejects from Pledge Week, Epsilon Rho Rho. Buncha fucking pussies.”

Kimmie kind of recognized the name. Putting it together with the face reminded her of Calculus, where she distantly recalled him as the guy who always dragged out the class asking the teacher boring fucking math questions. “Well, thank you for saving me from him,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Darren preened just a little. “No problem, babe. You have a good night, OK? Maybe you and I can go out sometime.”

“Sure,” she said. She meant it, too. Kimmie would have no problem adding Darren to the rotation, not after his performance tonight. She started to close the door, then paused. “Darren?” she said, just as he turned to leave.

“Yeah, babe?”

She lifted up her skirt for just a second, showing him her shaved pussy. “Nothing,” she said with a wink and a smile, closing the door behind her.

The sorority house was practically empty; even at 1 AM, Kimmie was one of the earliest girls home on Saturday night. Best night of the week, best frat on campus, best party school in the fucking US of A...life was definitely good.

Monday morning, and Kimmie raced into class, panting and out of breath. Professor Milburn glared up at her, and she gave a sheepish little smile in return. Milburn ran a soft class and everyone knew it—Plants and Animals of Florida was an easy A so long as you showed up for lectures. But he really hated late and absentee students, and since Kimmie was barely scraping a B-minus right now due to a few skipped classes, she knew she was already on his shit list. She just hoped he’d accept her excuse.

“Sorry, Mister Milburn,” she said. “I was on my way to class, when I passed this weird-looking flower in one of the drainage ditches. I didn’t recognize it from any of the lectures, so I thought I’d bring it in for you to look at.”

The look on his face told her that he thought it was bullshit, but the weird thing was that it was actually true. Kimmie had passed the ditch almost without noticing, the same as she did most days—but today, the flower had caught her eye and pushed thoughts of boys and clothes and music and what the other girls were saying about her outfit right out of her head. She’d leaned down to stare at it, trying to figure out why it seemed so out of place, and she was amazed to find that all those dull memories of Professor Milburn’s lectures, the ones she thought she’d paid so little attention to at the time, just unfolded in her head clearly and easily. She remembered columbines and goldenrods, coneflowers and black-eyed susans, deer tongues and sunflowers and passion flowers and it actually felt fun to think back and try to figure out which one of the many plants they’d covered was sitting down in that drainage ditch.

She’d felt disappointed when she couldn’t place it. Normally, when she couldn’t figure something out, she just shrugged and moved on. Life was too short to waste time sitting around thinking about shit, right? But this time, she really wanted to know. She’d spent fifteen minutes carefully avoiding the muck while plucking the flower from the plant floating in the water.

“I see,” Professor Milburn said. “Well, you have no idea how much it surprises me that you’ve found a Floridian plant you don’t recognize, Kimmie.” She suddenly hated the way he said her name, the little spin of contempt he gave it. “Go ahead and bring it down here, we’ll see if one of our other students can identify it.”

She walked down to the podium and set the lavender flower in front of him. He adjusted his spectacles and looked at it for a long moment. “Well,” he said, “it appears I owe you an apology. There’s a very good reason you didn’t recognize this, Kimmie; this is an eichhornia crassipes, commonly known as the water hyacinth. It’s not a native plant to Florida at all, but an invasive species. Actually, our unit next week is on invasive plants.”

He looked up at her, new respect in his eyes. “Nicely spotted,” he said, and Kimmie felt a warm surge of pride in her chest. She’d never seen anyone look at her like that before, and a tiny little part of her suddenly craved more of it. One of her professors, one of the smartest guys on campus, had looked at her as an equal for a moment, not just a dumb blonde who never wore panties. It was a whole new experience, and Kimmie decided she liked it.

Maybe that was why she’d always hated “nerds” and “geeks” and smart guys, she thought. Because she knew that she was never going to get that respect for them, she’d decided not to give it either. Whoa, she thought. That was, like, a genuine insight or something.

Smiling, she returned to her seat as Professor Milburn started up his lecture again. He was talking about sword ferns, and Kimmie felt disappointed that she hadn’t heard the beginning of the lecture. She’d need to go to him after class and get notes on what she missed.

She didn’t notice that one of the boys in class, a pudgy young man with a T-shirt that read, ‘C:/DOS RUN” on it, was looking at her intently with a satisfied expression on his face.

Kimmie awkwardly opened the door with one hand, the other carrying a heavy shopping bag as she managed to squirm her way into the common room. Delia looked up at her from her textbook. “Whatcha been doing?” she asked. “Clothes shopping again?”

“Um, yeah,” Kimmie said, grateful that the bag didn’t have a logo on it. “Gotta look sharp!” She slipped past the other girls, praying that none of them would ask her to model the new outfits, but they all seemed occupied with their studies as she headed up to her room.

When she got inside, she closed the door tightly and set the bag down on the bed. Trembling, she pulled each book out one by one, savoring the slightly musty scent as she flipped through the well-worn pages. God, why had nobody ever told her about the used bookstore over on 14th and Main before? It was even better than a Barnes and Noble. The selection was all crazy, the shelving was haphazard and some of the books were in dubious condition, but there were so many, and all so cheap...

She grabbed one at random and sat down on the bed to read. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her recent bibliophilia, she thought as she started in on ‘Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’. (Ooh, such a good word. She just loved the way it rolled off the tongue, the way it suggested such an intimate love of the printed word...) But Phi Gamma Beta girls weren’t known for loving books, and she didn’t want the other girls to think she was, y’know...weird. Nerdy.

She giggled as she read the adventures of Ford and Arthur—that was the worst part about this sudden love of literature. Kimmie didn’t want the other girls to think she was a dweeb, but at the same time, she so desperately wanted to share this with someone. She wanted to race out of the room right now, find the nearest girl in the sorority house, and press the book into their hands, saying, “Read this! It’s awesome!” But they probably wouldn’t understand. Kimmie wasn’t even really sure she understood.

She polished off Douglas Adams in under two hours, practically devouring the elegant, intricate prose, and grabbed another book off the stack. ‘All the President’s Men’. She remembered high school civics, watching the movie with Dustin Hoffman and Robert Redford instead of reading the book because she had a hot date that night. God, she thought as she read, how could I have been so stupid? This was amazing, the story of the downfall of a President and the shattering change to a whole nation, and she’d skipped it for a date?

Another hour and a half, and Woodward and Bernstein joined the growing stack of finished books she hid under her bed. She reached for another...no, not that one, she thought as she noticed which book she’d picked up. Not yet. She fumbled around in the pile, finally picking up ‘The Selfish Gene’.

Hours later, her face flushed, her eyes glazed, she reached for the book she’d avoided so studiously before. Her mind felt like it was ablaze with new thoughts and ideas, so many things to think about from zoology to history to how to get a drink out of a Vogon, and it just seemed so exciting that she had to...

She picked up the book, feeling the softness of paper that had already been touched by so many hands. ‘Delta of Venus’, she read on the cover. She remembered the moment in the bookstore when she’d spotted the book, remembered reading the back cover and the sudden warmth between her thighs. She’d known she needed to have this one, and she’d felt like a criminal evading justice when she brought it up to the register. The clerk hadn’t even noticed her sweaty palms, her blush. Funny, Kimmie spent every night with some guy balls-deep in her cunt, and the thought of a book of erotica made her tremble like a virgin on her wedding night.

Breathless, Kimmie slipped a finger into her pussy as she read. She felt like she was drinking in these words as well, but that they were going to a different place; Mathilde’s tale felt like it was only journeying through her brain on the way down to her clit. She stroked her own warm wetness as she read about men playing with Mathilde’s; the words, ‘Lazily one finger would seek her sex, enter it, lie there between the lips of the vulva, not moving,’ seemed to describe Kimmie’s own hand as she slowly slid her finger into her cunt, trying to draw the pleasure out.

It was no good. As she read about Mathilde, masturbating in front of the mirror, she felt her heat increase, felt her desire mounting; ‘From somewhere a salty liquid was coming, covering the wings of her sex; between these it now shone.’ Kimmie was panting now, freely gasping for breath, holding the book tightly in one hand as ‘a forefinger was inserted and she began to rub against it.’ God, it was so hot, so good, Anaïs Nin made it sound so real, so perfect, and she was gonna, gonna... ‘The approach of the orgasm excited her, she went into convulsive gestures, as if to pull away the ultimate fruit from a branch, pulling, pulling at the branch to bring down everything into a wild orgasm, which came while she watched herself in the mirror, seeing the hands move, the honey shining, the whole sex and ass shining wet between the legs.’

And it just kept going on, seducing her, enticing her to read more and to stroke more. There was no satiation to be found as Kimmie read of boarding schools and opium dens, of seduction and sex, and all so much more vivid in her imagination than any porno movie could have been. Finally, what seemed like hours later, she managed to tear her eyes away from the book and lay spent on the bed, her body drenched with sweat.

Then Jennie, her room-mate, came in. Kimmie didn’t even care about her nudity and the obvious smell of sex in the air; her only thought was to try to hide the book. She was so busy concealing it that she didn’t even see Jennie maneuvering the Barnes and Noble bag so the logo was less visible.

“So,” Darren said, pulling into the parking lot again. “It was nice to see you again, babe.”

“It was nice to see you too,” Kim said, wishing she meant it. The evening had actually wound up being pretty dull; Darren just talked about sports and beer and the stupid stuff his room-mates had done on Friday night, and the worst part was that he didn’t even seem to know how...how dumb he sounded. Kim tried not to judge him or anything, it wasn’t like he was to blame, but...well, maybe he was, just a little. She’d expanded her mind, surely he could expand his. But she tried not to comment. She remembered all too well the cutting remarks people had made about her intelligence, the ones nobody thought she’d noticed.

And he did still have that extraordinarily large penis. He probably hadn’t picked up much in technique over the last week, but Kim thought she could handle that end of things; the bookshelf she’d put up on Thursday was already overflowing with books, and she felt a hot little thrill as she thought of the used copy of ‘The Joy of Sex’ down on the bottom shelf. She reached over and unzipped his pants. “Ooh, yeah, babe,” he said as she pulled his already-stiffening penis out, “that feels nice.”

“I can make it feel even better,” she said seductively. “Just let me get a condom out of my purse, and—”

Darren’s expression suddenly turned petulant. “Aw, babe, you don’t need that. It only gets in the way anyway.”

Kim gestured to the change compartment. “That’s flamingo pink lipstick,” she said, pointing out the small cylinder sitting amongst the collection of pennies, washers, and fluff. “Now, I don’t wear flamingo pink, because it doesn’t go with my eyeshadow, so I know I didn’t leave that in the car last Saturday. Not that I’m mad, or anything. You and I have never promised an exclusive commitment to each other, and really, monogomy is just a social construct reaffirming male patriarchy anyway. But if we’re pursuing a polyamorous relationship, then that means that every time I sleep with you, I’m sleeping with everyone you ever slept with. That makes it more important than ever, not just for your health but for mine, that we practice safer sex.” She flashed him a winning smile. “Really, Darren, it’s just good sense.”

Five minutes later, and she was walking into the common room and giving the door a good slam. “What’s wrong?” Katrina asked, looking up from her chessboard. “Did your date not go well?” Karen, who was playing white, looked equally upset, and not just because she’d just realized she had left herself open for a Siberian Trap.

“Oh, it went fine,” Kim said angrily, “so long as you don’t mind the fact that Darren was behaving like a microcephalic Neanderthal!” She stomped angrily past the chess game, fighting the urge to kibitz. “I swear, boys around here can be so...so...unenlightened!”

“I don’t know,” Nicole said from the couch, not looking up from her copy of ‘Brave New World’. “I was talking with Marvin Dolenz from Epsilon Rho Rho yesterday after Trig, and he seemed to really respect my intelligence. He even liked my new shirt—you know, the one that says ‘Physicists Do It With Uniform Harmonic Motion’?” Katrina let out an involuntary snort of laughter at that, but Kim’s irritation was too dense to be moved by simplistic double entendres.

“Sorry,” she said, “but the whole situation just left a bad taste in my mouth and I’m in no mood for conversation. I don’t want to be rude, but do you mind if I just head up to my room?” The other girls nodded sympathetically, and Kim went upstairs.

She opened her door to find Jen on her bed, nude and idly pinching her nipples with her right hand while she held a book in the left. Kim was furious to notice that it was the brand-new copy of ‘The Story of O’ she’d bought just three days ago. “Hey!” she said, feeling what she knew was an irrational surge of jealousy towards the book. “Do you mind?”

Jen looked over at her, a sheepish grin on her face. “Sorry,” she said. “I know I should have bought my own, but—”

Kim rolled her eyes at her room-mate’s familiar excuse, her anger fading. “I know, all property is theft. I just hope you’ll remember that when I borrow your shoes tomorrow.” She started kicking off her clothes, still feeling the pent-up sexual energy of the disastrous date and eager to release it. “Can I have the book back?” she asked. “I wanted to do a little light reading before bed.”

“Awww,” Jen sighed. “I was really getting to a good bit.” She shifted position on the bed a little, leaving space on her left. “Tell you what,” she said. “We’re both fast readers, and there’s room enough for two. Just lie down next to me, and we can share the book.” Jen grinned. “After all, I think we’re both mature enough to handle close physical contact in an intimate situation without feeling uncomfortable, don’t you?”

Kim wasn’t entirely sure about the truth of that particular conjecture, but she was horny and in no mood to argue. She finished shucking off her outfit and lay down on the bed to Jen, her hands already gently roaming over her own breasts. For several long moments, the silence was broken by nothing but soft, heavy breathing and the sound of pages turning.

Finally, Jen spoke. “Kim,” she said. “I’ve been, um...I’ve been doing some reading on...alternative sexuality.”

Kim was suddenly very aware of the feel of Jen’s hip pressed against her own. “Uh-huh?” she said, prompting the other girl to continue.

“And it’s a well-known fact that...” Jen turned her head to look directly at Kim, and Kim felt soft breath in her ear. The tickling, whispery sensation sent a chill down her spine. “That, um, experimenting with alternative sexuality is perfectly natural for women in academic situations. It doesn’t have to mean you’re, you know, lesbian, or even bisexual. It just means you have a...” Jen shifted her leg, tracing her toe up the curve of Kim’s calf. “A healthy attitude towards your own sensuality.”

Kim shivered. “I’ve...” Her voice was thick, husky. It was hard to talk. She rested her hand gently on Jen’s belly, feeling the other girl’s warmth against her palm. “I’ve read the same thing.”

Jen shifted the book to her right hand. It made it a little harder for Kim to read, but it meant that Jen didn’t have to reach across her own body to slide her fingers down to Kim’s soaking cunt. Kim exhaled softly, her own fingers brushing a trail down between Jen’s thighs.

Jen seemed to have whole new ways to touch her, and Kim tried very hard to keep track of what she was doing for later reference as she felt the pleasure build. She hoped that she was demonstrating just as many interesting new techniques to the other girl. It certainly felt like she was; the warm, wet, slick feel of Jen’s pussy clenching around her fingers was almost indescribably exciting. She felt like they were working together as a single mind, each one’s fingers flicking the other closer to orgasm, each one’s moans inspiring the other to new heights of ecstasy. They even had to work together to read the book—Jen held, while Kim turned the pages.

Until the second or third orgasm, at least. Then they set the book aside for a little while.

Kim nodded animatedly. “I loved that series!” she said. “Niven is one of the best of the hard science fiction authors. You can really tell that he puts the effort into designing a coherent worldview for his stories; not just the physics, but the cultures, the ideas, all of it supporting the central structure. Plus, between you and me,” she said, lowering her voice a little, “I always loved the idea of the tasp.”

She watched Greg’s eyes widen, and she smiled inside. Everything was going just according to plan. Of course, she probably could have gotten sex with Greg just by walking up to him after Calc and dragging him off to a supply closet; she was pretty sure, from his body language, that he was sexually inexperienced. But she didn’t just want to screw him, she wanted to build a relationship founded on mutual respect. That meant a different sort of flirting, one that relied on the arts of conversation and a shared system of common interests and values. It meant patience, and Kim was happy to be patient if it meant getting a better class of partner.

Greg was definitely a better class of partner than the men she’d been dating. He was bright, for one thing. She’d never really noticed it before (primarily because she’d never paid attention to anything in Calculus class until a couple of weeks ago, but now the dance of numbers was as familiar and as beautiful to her as ballet.) But he was genuinely intelligent, perhaps even something of a genius. She had to admit, the thought of spending time with a kindred spirit, one whose intellect was equal, even superior to her own...it was breath-taking.

His social skills weren’t the match of his pure intelligence, of course. She suspected he had a mild, undiagnosed autistic-spectrum condition. But Kim felt certain that with a little bit of careful social conditioning, she could help build up his self-esteem and help him make a few changes in his life. All of which would, in the long run, be beneficial to him...as well as make him more appealing to the opposite sex. She looked forward to introducing him to Jen. The two of them had already reached some firm conclusions about the viability of a polyamorous relationship.

Her train of thought was rudely interrupted when Darren walked up between them, angling his shoulders to shove Greg aside in a manner that was obviously intentional. “Watch where you’re going, nerd,” he said contemptuously. “You nearly rubbed your slime all over my girlfriend.”

Kim’s eyes narrowed. Push around Greg, would he? “Girlfriend? We went on two dates, Darren, and frankly, I was too drunk to exercise proper judgment on one of them. Can’t you find some girl who still finds your testosterone-crazed attitude attractive?”

Darren looked at her in surprise. “What’s wrong with you, babe? You’re talking like one of those geeks or something.”

Kim put her hands on her hips. “Those ‘geeks’, as you call them, are going to wind up running things once we get out of college! Look at Bill Gates. Look at Steve Jobs. They were just like Greg in college, too bright to fit in with inebriated simians like you, and now they have more money than someone like you could even count!” She was furious now, but she could see Greg staring at her in awe from behind Darren, and that made her swell with pride as she continued.

“Men like you, you’re pissing away thousands of dollars in education and counting on the outdated, oligarchic fraternity system and its connections to keep you from failure when you reach the outside world! What are you going to do for a career, Darren? Get your Greek buddies to find you some middle management job, spend your life giving reach-arounds to every Delta who asks? Thanks, but I think I can do better.”

Darren was flushed bright red with anger. She thought for a moment he was going to try to hit her, and she almost looked forward to applying her studies of aikido, but instead he just growled out, “Your loss, babe,” and turned around, stalking off. No doubt looking for some poor freshman girl to impress with his physical endowments. Thanks all the same, but Kim wasn’t that shallow.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” she asked Greg. He shook his head. Kim suspected his pride was a little stung by having a female defend him from an obvious ‘alpha male’, but that wouldn’t last, if for no other reason than Kim planned to raise his consciousness a little on the subject of patriarchal hegemony.

After all, if she was going to spend the rest of her life with Greg, she wanted to make sure he was a suitable life partner.

Kim walked into the common room, a spring in her step. “Guess what?” she said. “I have a study date with Greg tomorrow night!”

Katrina was on the phone with her new beau, Bert Kramden from Epsilon, and Delia was talking to a plain-looking girl that Kim didn’t recognize, but several of the other girls gave Kim enthusiastic cheers. She plopped down on a chair, saying “Knight to King’s Rook Four” in passing to Sarah, and gave a big smile. And not just because she’d just forked Sarah’s queen in the mental chess game they’d been playing for the past four days, either. She had big plans for that study date.

On the couch, she overheard Delia say, “...not trying to make excuses for my behavior, Sandy. Yes, the ‘pledging’ system is designed to be an emotionally intense bonding process, and when I went through it myself, I was indoctrinated to pass on the values of the group to new initiates, but that doesn’t mean my behavior was anything but abominable. I focused in on your appearance not because you’re ugly, but because in my cruelty, I saw that as a point of psychological vulnerability in you, and I’m so glad you were willing to take the time to let me apologize.”

Good for her, Kim thought. That should clear up some of her karmic debt. Kim wasn’t sure whether the sorority house was the best place to hold such a conversation, though; Sandy undoubtedly felt more than a little threatened by the setting of her past humiliation. But the act of contrition was the important thing. Kim had already spent several afternoons going to various girls on campus and apologizing for her behavior, and nothing had ever felt so cathartic. Delia would probably be a lot more pleasant to be around now that she’d come to terms with her previous aberrant behavior. Then again, all the girls had been a lot more pleasant to be around lately.

After a few hours of light debate on current affairs and world events, though, Kim was more than ready to head upstairs. It wasn’t that she was upset; she could see the virtues of Nicole’s position on the euro. But to suggest that the European Union could be used as a model for Africa overlooked a lot of serious issues with the reliability of trade relations in unstable countries, and Kim wasn’t ready to hash them out just yet. Instead, she decided to go and tell Jen the good news about Greg.

When she opened the door, she found Karen tied spread-eagled to the bed. Jen was standing over her, holding a riding crop and slapping it gently but firmly against Karen’s pussy. “Oh, hi!” she said. “I was hoping you’d be coming up soon. We’ve been doing a little bit of reading on sadomasochism and the D/s relationship, and we know you have some really fascinating ideas on the subject.” Karen let out a little squeal as the crop smacked down just a little harder on one stroke, but otherwise stayed silent.

“Oh, I do!” Kim said, her eyes alight as she began to swiftly remove her clothing. She didn’t bother closing the door; by this point, most of the girls had at least expressed a passing interest in Kim’s growing erotic library, and a live demonstration would probably be more intriguing than offensive. Besides, Kim suspected she had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, and not just because the social conditioning of Phi Gamma Beta encouraged a sexually open style of dress. “If I’d have known you were engaged in this, I would have come up sooner. But Nicole was holding court downstairs, and...”

“Not the euro again?” Karen asked, before her eyes went wide and she pursed her lips.

“Oh,” Jen said, a gleam in her eyes, “that’s speaking out of turn, Karen. We established the rules. You know what happens when you speak out of turn.”

Karen’s eyes widened with fear, but she didn’t safeword as Jen loosened the ropes. Kim half-suspected she’d spoken out of turn on purpose, as so many submissives did. Jen flipped the other girl over on the bed, exposing her naked bottom to the air. It was already glowing a dull red from previous strokes of the crop. Kim definitely regretted debating the euro now. She made no apologies for her high sex drive; shame was just part of the ‘virgin/whore’ dichotomy, and Jen refused to lower her own self-esteem because she indulged her natural urges. She felt her pussy lubricating as she watched Karen wriggle. Definitely time to indulge an urge or two.

“You know you have to count for me, Karen,” Jen said, smacking the crop down hard.

“ooone,” Karen moaned out, squirming under the crop. Kim reached over to her dresser, and grabbed an ostrich feather that she’d bought a few days ago from off of it.

“twoohhh...” Kim heard the wavery pleasure in Karen’s voice and thought that the girl might be a true submissive. Kim and Jen were both switches, and Katrina next door seemed perfectly happy to top them both whenever they were in the mood, but adding a sub opened all sorts of new possibilities.

Like this, she thought, tickling the soles of Karen’s feet with the feather while Jen whipped her. The response was definitely gratifying.

Kimberly knocked on the open door of Professor Wanderly’s office. “Hi,” he said. “Door’s open.”

She walked inside, and closed it behind her. “Um, Professor,” she said. This felt awkward to her, even a little shameful, but she needed to just do it and get it over with. “I know I’ve had some, um, troubles with Drama 101.”

“Well, yes,” Professor Wanderly replied, “but your work’s improved a lot over the last two weeks. I don’t think you’ll have any problem passing the class.”

“I know,” she said, looking down at the floor. “But I was really hoping for a better grade than I can get just by doing well on the remaining classwork. I, um...I know it’s irregular, maybe even a little presumptuous.” She steeled herself, and looked him square in the eyes. “But could I, um, maybe do a little extra credit work for you?”

Professor Wanderly had a cynical, knowing look in his eyes. She didn’t blame him. He probably got this sort of thing all the time. And it really wasn’t fair. By the rules of his classroom, the social contract he’d established at the beginning of the semester, she had earned a B-minus fairly and squarely. Then again, she thought, nobody else had ever come up with the ‘extra credit’ ideas she had. “What did you have in mind?” he asked drily.

“Well,” she said, “I was thinking about doing a comprehensive presentation to the class on the state of drama in Gainesville—not just here on campus, but in the community. I know that we’re really better known for our independent music than for our drama, but the ART and the GCP are doing some really interesting things lately, and I thought that if I interviewed some of the directors, maybe made it into a multi-media presentation, I could get some of the kids excited about the theater scene here.” She realized she was on the verge of babbling, and forced herself to stop. “What do you think, sir?” she asked.

Professor Wanderly sounded almost disappointed when he said, “Good idea.”

“Alright, Greg,” Kimberly said, standing on the threshold of Epsilon Rho Rho. A half-dozen other Phi Gamma Beta girls stood behind her. “We want to know what you’re doing to us, and we want to know now.”

Greg’s eyes widened. “I, um...I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kimberley, honey. We’re, I mean I’m not doing anything.”

Kimberly sighed. “Greg, there are seventeen distinctive signifiers in vocal inflection and body language that indicate a lie. You just managed to trip thirteen of them. Please give us some credit for the intelligence you put into our head and be honest with us.”

Greg’s shoulders slumped. “Alright,” he said. “It’s...it’s in the basement.” He led them through the common room. A number of Epsilons waved to their girlfriends, but one look at Greg and their friendly smiles turned into frowns of despair.

The device was massive, practically the size of a car. It hummed with strange energies, occasionally letting out a loud beep as lights flashed across its central display. “We...we figured that the reason none of you girls looked twice at us was that you just couldn’t understand what it was like to be interested in something other than sex or clothes. So we came up with something that we thought might make you into better girlfriends. You know,” he said. “More compatible.”

“I see,” Kimberly said through pursed lips. “Is it reversible? If you turn it off, will the effects go away?”

Greg glared at her defiantly. “No,” he said. “You’re stuck like this. And I’m not sorry, either. You’re a better person now than you ever were as that fucking bimbo ‘Kimmie’. I—”

“I agree,” Kimberly said.

“—wouldn’t reverse it even if I could, because...huh?”

“I said, I agree.” Kimberly looked at the device with something approaching reverence. “You have no idea how happy I am, how many new worlds you’ve opened up for me. You misunderstand us, Greg. We didn’t come here to ask you to reverse the effect. We just want to hear you explain how it works.”

“Oh!” Greg smiled as though the weight of the world was off his shoulders. “Well, you know how neurons are thought to be amitotic, right?” Kimberly nodded. “Well, some of the latest research actually points to the idea that adult neurogenesis is possible. Naturally, this has a number of applications for intelligence increase, but it’s not just a matter of growing extra brain tissue and hoping for the best. You see...”

Kimberly and the other girls listened, impressed by Greg’s genius. Truly, creating a machine like this took a one-of-a-kind intellect. She was right about him, right in every way.

Duplicating it, on the other hand, would be child’s play for her and the other girls. She started to form a checklist in her head. Darren first; as a physical specimen, he was far superior to Greg, and with sufficient mental upgrades, he was bound to lose his male-dominated egotism. Then, perhaps, some of the other Deltas—Delia had insisted that Jake was excellent in bed, and a little study of the Kama Sutra could only improve that. After that, who knew? So many yummy guys, so little time.

Which wasn’t to say she’d abandon Greg. He was, after all, a nice guy. But he’d need to learn how to deal with a little healthy competiton if he wanted to stay the smartest guy on the block.