The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“I look like a deer in the headlights,” Tanya swallowed hard. “Like a NAKED deer in the headlights.” She surrendered the printed images to her psychology professor.

Jessica looked over them. Indeed, the college freshman stood in a series of seven poses:

Full frontal, nakedly at attention, blonde hair dangling at her shoulders, pretty blue eyes staring vacantly ahead.

Naked profile of the same pose.

Full frontal again, in a stance with legs spread half again as wide as shoulders, hands clasped behind her head to present tit.

On knees and forearms, ass arched higher than head—conveniently from both side and rear views.

Standing on tip-toes, bent forward 45 degrees at the hips, cupping boob from underneath, offering them up to the viewer with an artificial empty-eyed smile on her face.

Seated on her butt on the floor, legs spread wide, eyes staring distractedly ahead.

“Ms Koning, these are,” Jessica waved the prints, “pornographic. This is your idea of a joke?!”

“No! It’s no joke! And I need your help!”

The pictures made Jessica nervous—just having them in her office while she had this conversation with a student opened her up to distorted accusations later. Perhaps she should call Joyce over, she wondered, to act as a witness that everything was handled appropriately.

“Please, Professor Sucrerie, you’ve GOT to help me! I don’t know WHERE ELSE TO GO!” The girl seemed sincerely distressed.

Jessica set the risque and risky prints back in front of the girl. “You ... were not a willing participant in taking these?”

“Willing—?! Professor, I don’t even REMEMBER posing for them!”

“You’re sure they are of you? And not another model that just looks like—”

“They’re me,” Tanya nodded solemnly.

“I mean, the young lady certainly LOOKS like you, but—”

“That scar that looks like a shepherd’s crook on the back of her right thigh. I got that on a bicycle when I was twelve. What are the chances of ....”

Jessica nodded—coincidental “identical twins” with identical distinctive scars would be few and far between. “If you didn’t pose for these, how did you find out about them?”

“Hank Rollins was harassing me after class yesterday, calling me vulgar names. Then he pulled these out to show to me what a ‘whore’ I was. I landed a knee to his groin and took these while he was vomiting.”

Jessica inwardly smiled. Hank Rollins was a junior, a blocker or tackle or some such on the university football team, and long overdue for a good groin-induced vomit. “But he has to outweigh you by—”

“They all go down if you land a blow there. When I got to studying the pictures, they ... really ARE of me. But I don’t know how.” She swallowed. “Could someone have ... hypnotized me? Or are there drugs that could make me do that? Just ... obey them and ... pose naked? And then forget about it later?”

Jessica sighed. “Hypnosis does not exist. What people call hypnosis—it’s simply role playing, the subject trying to please the so-called hypnotist.” She had published two studies on just that topic. “And drugs exist that could knock you unconscious, but you look alert, albeit distracted, in those pictures.”

“So what could it be, then?”

“Tanya, what was your upbringing like? Were your parents strict with you?”

“You don’t think ... I’m just going wild with college-life, do you? Because I’m not. I don’t remember taking these pictures at all. Someone DID something to me! They hypnotized me! They must have made me pose for them and then made me forget about it!”

“Tanya, I told you: hypnosis doesn’t exist. Noone can make you do anything against your will. If you posed for these pictures, regardless of whether you are yet able to admit that you willingly did so, there was a part of you that wanted to.”

“No, you don’t understand at all! I never—”

“Tanya, you need to take responsibility for your own actions. You simply cannot blame this on some fantastic ‘mind control.’ You have to own up to your own actions, embrace—”

“So you don’t think that anyone ... hypnotized ... me or drugged me or anything?”

“Certainly not. And you will want to avoid any such elaborate fantasies about conspiracies evilly mind controlling young coeds like yourself. Such fabrications are unhealthy and will delay resolving your issues.”

Tanya nodded silently, then looked up.

“Professor Sucrerie ... what would it mean if it ... turned someone on—not that it did!—but ... what would it mean? If someone found being mind controlled ... hot?”

And there it was: the girl was simply elaborating a sexual fantasy.

“I mean, not that I did, but if a girl were to, say, masturbate over being someone’s ... sex puppet ... would that make her a bad person? Would it mean that she’s a slut?”

“Tanya,” Jessica sighed, “perhaps you should—”

“Because I never did that before yesterday!” Tanya blurted. “I mean ... I never even wondered about things like that until ... I saw myself like that yesterday. All ... in a trance like that. Ready to accept orders. All ... at someone’s command ... like they could make me do ... anything ... and I would ... just ... let them ... make me ....”

“But that doesn’t mean you didn’t have subconscious desires, laying there, latent. And with the freedom of university life comes a risk of doing things you’re ashamed about.”

“You think ... I’m a slut, don’t you?”

“I think you’re a confused young lady, Tanya. I can recommend some therapists. Perhaps it would be good to try a couple sessions with one, to sort some things out.”

Tanya nodded silently, not meeting Jessica’s eyes.

“The mind is a complex organ, Tanya. I takes great effort to even begin to understand the conflicting desires in our own heads and it brings no shame to ask a therapist for help. But, no, hypnosis and mind control do not exist. Instead, we need to own up to our own actions, to assume responsibility for our own deeds.”

Jessica pulled her address book out of her purse and jotted down three names and numbers on a sheet of paper, then handed that to Tanya. “These are all fine therapists, Tanya. I would like you to give one of them a call and schedule an appointment. Believe me, it will help.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tanya stood. “Th-thank you,” she mumbled, then left.

Jessica sighed. Getting off on the idea of a big bad conspiracy forcing her to do slutty, degrading things? That was one disturbed young woman.

“They’re making them stranger and stranger these days,” Jessica shook her head after walking next door to Joyce Vail’s office.

Joyce looked up from where she was grading exams. She looked like a cute, playful kitten that had buttoned herself up into a librarian’s staid outfit, complete with little bitty glasses, though her mischievous feline eyes would give her secret away to anyone that watched her long enough. Jessica had decided that her figure, under those clothes, was curvaceous, and her dark brown hair, if she would only let it down, would play around on her bare shoulders most delightfully.

Except this kitten liked boys—was still looking for a husband, in fact.

“How so?” Joyce asked, looking over her glasses.

“A student just brought me naked pictures of herself.”

“Ooh, you should have called me over to corroborate that everything was handled appropriately in case she made anything up later.”

“Believe me, it crossed my mind. But she was obviously distraught and continued on before I could give you a call.”

“Were you able to help her with what she was fretting over?”

“She was upset that Hank Rollins was harassing her.”

“Ooh, he’s a jerk.”

“Yes, he is. Apparently, he found these naked pictures that this student let be taken of herself. And here’s the twist: she now claims that she doesn’t remember ever taking the pictures. She’s totally blocked that out.”

Joyce frowned. “That WOULD be creepy from her point of view—finding pictures of yourself with no explanation of how they were taken.”

“She’s elaborated some fantasy about how this mysterious ‘them’ hypnotized her into posing for those pictures. She’s even found that fantasy titillating, if you can believe that.”

“Did you refer her to the police? Just to check out her claims?”

“Oh, Joyce, I didn’t want to feed her delusions.”

“Still, perhaps someone should check out to see if any—”

“Hypnosis doesn’t exist, Joyce. It’s just role playing. It’s one of the few things Freud got wrong. Now subconscious urges—those exist. And this girl needs to resolve some of hers.”

“That’s where we differ, Jessica. I think hypnosis is a real phenomenon. And it COULD be used to exploit young women in the hands of an unscrupulous person. Hank Rollins, hmm? That’s boy’s head is as thick as a brick, so he is obviously not capable. Coach Jefferson is always looking for ways to beef up his team and keep them happy, so he’d have the motive but not the means.”

“Joyce,” Jessica smiled teasingly, “YOU’RE not having any issues with sexual repression, are you? You seem very fascinated with this far-fetched idea.”

“Ha, ha,” Joyce rolled her eyes irreverently. “Now Coach Jefferson IS good friends with Professor Benjamin in the biology department.”

“Joyce, c’mon,” Jessica shrugged. “It’s just the fantasies of a repressed little girl.”

“It probably is. But we SHOULD rule out the remote possibility that it’s something more.”

Jessica shrugged. Joyce was an adult—it was silly, but if she wanted to play Agatha Christie, she had the right to do so, Jessica guessed.

“Oh, I’m not going to waste a lot of time and effort on it,” Joyce read Jessica’s expression, “I just think we owe it to the girl to lightly check it out. I’ll mention it to Greg. If Professor Benjamin’s computer is on the network, perhaps he can check out his hard drive for anything suspicious.”

“You’re going to get your brother in trouble if he goes poking around other people’s hard drives. Especially at this university—people are very protective of their research here.”

“It’ll just be this once. And he owes me a favor—I cooked him dinner two nights last week.”

“When are you going to find you a partner to serve as an outlet for your need to nurture?” Jessica asked with a smile.

“When I come across the right one,” Joyce smiled back.

Professor Sucrerie dismissed class, and Tanya was gathering her books to file out with the rest of the students when Hank Rollins’ voice slapped her awareness, “Hey, your imperial highness!”

“You leave me alone,” she spun around and warned him, “Or next time I’ll knee you so hard you’ll be tasting testicles.”

“Sweetie, sweetie, I just want my pictures back.”

“I tore them up. And if you try to fake any more pictures of me, I’ll tear them up too.”

“Now ... you know you’ll be begging to pose for me again tonight.”

“They weren’t of me! They were faked! And I won’t—”

“I think I’ll have you dress up like a slutty French maid and beg to polish my knob.”

“You—! You can’t—!”

“Yeah, I’ll make you spit-shine it with your—”

“Mr Rollins,” Jessica spoke from directly behind him, “you will have a twenty page report contrasting behaviorism with classical psychoanalysis to turn in by the next class.”

“What?!” he spun around and scowled at her.

“Or you fail this class.”

“Do you think you can just—”

“I think I can get you dismissed from the university for using profanity and verbally assaulting another student. I’ve offered you a different way to channel your energies, but we can still go the first route if you insist. Want to try me?”

After a moment of surprise at Jessica’s feistiness, his eyes took on a smart-assed glint, and a smile crawled across his face. “Naw, Prof. I oughtta be nicer to get what I want anyway. Like they say, you catch more honey with lies.” Chuckle. “You have a good one, Prof.,” he said as he turned his back to her and sauntered out of the classroom.

“God! What makes him think he can TALK to me like that?!” Tanya demanded, her eyes flaring with anger. Then she nodded, determined, “I want to press charges. Yes, I want him dismissed, like you said. He can’t treat me like that.”

Jessica sighed. A girl with nude pictures of herself floating around campus trying to get a football player dismissed? For a little strong language? “Tanya, you should think about this before you pursue it and make sure you want to. You’ll need a lot of resolve to take on—”

“Oh, I’m sure! I’m resolved! That little prick,” she jabbed her finger, “doesn’t belong with other human beings.” Then she turned and huffed out of the classroom.

Jessica sighed. “That’s it. show’s over,” she told the three students that had lingered to gape at the entertainment.

She gathered up the rest of her materials, then headed up the hall and down the stairwell. On the landing, two students were making out, and Jessica averted her eyes. They ought to take that out of the hallways and into some seedy hotel room. But you couldn’t say anything to students about that these days. Everything went, it seemed.

“Hey, Prof,” the male in the embrace called to her as she walked past.

Jessica turned, and ... God, it was Hank.

“More honey with lies,” he gave her a grinning thumbs-up while Tanya nibbled and licked his neck.

“Will you make me ... wear the floucy little apron ... while I make you sparkly clean ... sir?” Tanya asked between licks.

“Tanya?!” Jessica gasped.

“Mmm ... yeah, Prof ... ?” she sigh-slurped, distracted by the taste of Hank’s flesh.

“Guess she’s a little preoccupied with me right now,” Hank said as he cupped tit through blouse, “But, hey, thanks for standing up for her earlier. We both really appreciate that, Professor Sucrerie.”

Jessica backed down three steps as Tanya let herself be groped, then she turned and left hurriedly, feeling a little sick.

“You’ll never believe what Greg found,” Joyce poked her head in Jessica’s office with eyes enthusiastic.

God, she was cute.

Jessica had to smile despite herself. “What would that be?”

“Our Professor Benjamin is running an encrypted partition on his hard drive.” She crossed her arms and gave a “hmm, isn’t THAT interesting” arched-brow nod and smile.

“Joyce, don’t waste any more time with that.”

“Greg says he knows the product that the professor is using, and that particular version actually has a flaw in the algorithm implementation—apparently that’s easy to do—that makes it breakable. He started some software and ran it through the weekend to crack it. He expects it to finish any time now.”

“It’s just a lovers’ tiff.”

“What?”

“Tanya and Hank—it’s nothing but a lovers’ tiff. I caught them kissing in the stairwell—quite a lip lock, really. My bet is they had a fight, and she cooked up the story to get him in trouble, then they made up.”

Joyce shrugged. “If she no longer has a complaint, I guess we drop it. Greg will probably continue with what he’s doing. From what he said, I don’t think Professor Benjamin is supposed to be running encrypted partitions.”

“Whatever. I’m done with it.” She was still feeling a little sick about standing up for a girl that turned right around and swapped spit with “the enemy”.

“Also, I got you something,” Joyce beamed suddenly.

Uh-oh. “What is it?” Jessica smiled back suspiciously.

Joyce brought up a paper bag, gave a half-smiling-half-surprised look, paused a moment for suspense, then pulled out a stuffed furball that look a casualty from a crayola explosion.

“What ... is it?” Jessica made a face.

“It’s Fun-Spun-Shine Bear! I got him for you!”

“Why ... would you do such a thing?”

“Because Halloween is coming up and I know you won’t celebrate. You always say such dour, gloomy things like there’s not enough joy in your life. Mr Fun-Spun-Shine,” she held the multicolored attack bear of fun at Jessica, “is here to help bring you joy!”

“Oh ... my ... God.”

“Aww, isn’t he cute?” Joyce fluffed the fur under each side of Mr Fun-Spun-Shine’s chin.

“And you have a PhD in psychology.”

“Doesn’t mean I gotta be dour. You either.”

“Well,” Jessica reached for the glee-stuffed hellbeast, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s not like you have to marry him or anything. He’ll just help remind you that you have friends that care about you.”

“Well ... seriously, thank you, Joyce.”

“You’re welcome.”

“She’s teaching a class right now,” Jessica called as she saw Greg walk past her door toward Joyce’s office.

“I was just going to drop this off,” Greg held up a piece of paper as he stepped back into her doorway.

Jessica arched one eyebrow. “That wouldn’t be a password, would it?”

“Actually, yeah,” he grinned. “It just so happens that I had read an article on the web that the company had an error in the implementation of the cryptographic algorithm in that version of the software that Professor Benjamin is using. He doesn’t keep up with such things like I do, so he was still running the flawed version. I did some searching and found some code to exploit the flaw, modified it for our configuration here, ran it, and,” he held up the piece of paper.

Jessica looked at him. She could tell that somewhere in all those syllables geeks use to impress each other, he was trying to brag on himself.

Greg shrugged. “Pretty impressive if I must say so. We’re just lucky I had read that article.”

“Pretty impressive,” Jessica nodded her head.

“You think?” he grinned, pleased.

“I understood none of what you just said—frankly, it’s stretching to still call geek-speak ‘English’—but Joyce has frequently mentioned your prowess with computers. She’s quite proud of you.”

“Joyce is wonderful. Noone understands people better than her.”

“May I see?”

“The password? Sure. Here.” He handed her the paper. “Joyce says this all started because some student came to you complaining about a football player?”

“Organism?!” Jessica looked up from the piece of paper. “The biology professor’s password is ‘organism’?!”

“I know: lame. That’s why I was able to crack it so quickly,” Greg grinned. “I started off with a dictionary attack, which is a lot more efficient than an exhaustive search through the whole password namespace, and I figured that someone in the biology department might just be unsophisticated enough to—”

“Whoa, tiger,” Jessica held up her hand, “I don’t need to know how you made the kill, just that you made it. Can I just open the file and type in this password?”

“Well, you’ll need to have the client software installed first.”

“And how do I go about doing that?”

Greg walked her through connecting to his computer on the LAN, downloading the application, installing it, then connecting to Professor Benjamin’s partition and opening it.

“Have you looked through it yet? Anything suspicious?” Jessica asked.

“I didn’t have time. I wanted to bring the password over, then I have to run. A bunch of us are getting together to jam tonight, and the guys can’t hit their groove without their bassist.”

That must be from some book he’d read, How to Pick Up Women: play a musical Instrument. Just not the accordion. “Hip cats, all of you?”

“You should come down and hear us sometime.”

“Perhaps another time.”

“Just let me know when.”

“Well, anyway, thank you, Greg. I’ll give this to Joyce, and we’ll check out this student’s story.”

“That’s Joyce,” he nodded, “I think she has the biggest heart in the world. And the people around her just seem to sense that and come to her, so that she can help them.”

“Pedastalizing, are we?”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. I’ll give this to her.”

“Thanks. And any time you want to come listen to us jam, you just let me know.”

“I will. thanks.”

After he left, Jessica poked around on Professor Benjamin’s now-exposed partition a little bit, to see what merited an encrypted disk or partition or whatever the technospeak for it was.

In one folder, he had a bunch of files listed with women’s names. As she idly scanned down through the list, she saw ...

vail_joyce_1?!

She double-clicked the file and ...

Ohgod!

There was Joyce standing full frontal.

Naked! Eyes unfocused, staring passively ahead.

In vail_joyce_2, she stood in naked profile!

Then with legs spread and hands clasped behind her head in vail_joyce_3! Then on all fours, bare ass in the air! Then bent forward, offering her boobs up to the viewer, her pretty feline eyes looking so ... sweetly passive and submissive!

Breath trembling, Jessica reached up to cup her own breast through her blouse and pinched the nipple.

That sweet girl, so ... submissive!

There was no mad hypnotist, but there sure as HELL was one lucky photographer to be taking pictures of all these repressed women expressing their shadow sides!

Jessica had never suspected Joyce had such a shadow side to express!

God, she was cute!

Even more so naked.

Jessica left those pictures open and hunted around on Professor Benjamin’s drive a little more, coming across a file, “koning_tanya_vail_joyce.mpg”.

It couldn’t be.

It could not possibly be what THAT suggested.

Excited, Jessica double-clicked it. A window opened, first on darkness, which faded to a small video.

It opened on a small office, not Joyce’s, though Joyce was seated at the desk there. After a knock, Tanya stepped in. “Hi, Professor Vail. Thanks for seeing me.”

“That’s quite all right, Tanya. What’s up?”

Tanya sat in the chair next to Joyce’s desk and handed her several sheets that she was carrying. “I wanted to show you these.”

Joyce looked at the sheets, and her eyes registered surprise. “Tanya, these are pictures of you. Naked!”

“Yes, they are, aren’t they?” she smiled. “I was busy fantasizing that I had no control over myself when I took those, that I was just somebody’s sex puppet to get bent over and stuffed as they please. God, that made me hot!” She fanned herself and shivered. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve masturbated thinking about that.”

Jessica nodded her head. She had known that the girl had been trying to pull a story about not remembering taking them.

“Do they turn YOU on? Do you find me hot, Professor Vail?” Tanya asked in the video.

“I, ehr—I mean ... you’re attractive, certainly, Tanya. But I don’t—I’m not interested in—”

“What DOES turn you on, Professor Vail?” Tanya stood and walked around behind Joyce.

“Uh, well, that’s not really an appropriate, uh ... topic for—”

Tanya laid her hands on Joyce’s shoulders and started to massage them. At first Joyce’s shoulders bunched up, but then she shivered a little. “I, uh ... I don’t think this is really appropriate, uh ... Tanya.” Joyce pushed her glasses back up her nose with her index finger.

“Oh, shut up, bitch,” Tanya giggled and moved her hand around to lightly stroke the underside of Joyce’s chin.

Joyce ... sat there and let her.

“Do I hear you ... purring, Professor Vail?” Tanya leaned toward Joyce’s ear and whispered as she continued to stroke and lightly scratch Joyce’s throat.

“Tanya, this is—we shouldn’t be—”

“Oh, shut up, bitch,” Tanya giggled and dropped her hand to Joyce’s blouse-covered breast.

“Uh, Tanya,” Joyce nervously pushed her glasses back up her nose again while she let herself be felt up by the girl, “I don’t ... I don’t like girls. I ... I like boys.”

“Oh, of course you like women. There’s a little bit of lesbian inside all of us,” Tanya brought the other hand up to cup the other breast from behind. “You reek of it. You want to be with a woman so bad you’re ready to pop. You just need to ... let yourself.” Then she leaned in and began nibbling at Joyce’s neck.

Joyce gasped, did a couple ohgods, gasped again, then turned around and pressed her lips to Tanya’s.

“That’s my bitch,” Tanya sighed when they broke the kiss.

“Be ... be gentle with me,” Joyce sighed, a pleading look in her eyes. She was still seated, and she brought her hands up toward the younger woman’s breasts. “May ... may I?”

Tanya rolled her eyes at Joyce’s “properness” and chuckled. “You may.”

Joyce’s hands flowed over Tanya’s breasts and danced around there a minute or two. Then she lowered her hands to cup Tanya’s ass and leaned forward to hug her like that, pressing the side of her face against the front of Tanya’s pelvis.

“I know where you want to go,” Tanya smiled and nodded, then lifted her short skirt.

Trembling, Joyce pressed her face back to her pelvis, then pulled those wet panties aside, stuck her tongue out and ....

The video ended.

God!

Jessica’s office had a view of the courtyard outside the building. More relevantly, the courtyard outside the building had a view of Jessica’s office through her windows. So her office was a very awkward place to do what she needed to do.

She strode down the hall to the bathroom instead, went into a stall and sank her fingers into herself for a few minutes with incredible hot thoughts.

A half hour later, with the edge taken off her excitement by a number of orgasms, Jessica headed back to her office.

She had masturbated to fantasies about Joyce a few times in the past, but she had ... never ... suspected that Joyce was really interested in women.

That was just so ... (Jessica shivered) ... exciting!

Joyce Vail had ... lesbian thoughts. Jessica shook her head. And Tanya had brought them out.

Jessica just kept turning this new discovery over and over in her head as she walked back to her office.

That cute little kitten ... liked to play with girls!

“Hi, Jessica,” Joyce walked rapidly toward her, her purse slung over her left shoulder, a stack of books held in front of her with both hands, a soft brown leather briefcase dangling from her right hand, her glasses slipped down at the tip of her nose, and one unruly tress of hair hanging down in front of an eye like a piece of string to tease the kitty into playing. “Can’t stop, or everything will go,” she brisked past and into her office.

There was a small crash.

When Jessica stepped in, Joyce had managed to drop everything onto her desk instead of the floor, and she was grinning. “Remind me not to carry so much next time.”

Jessica grinned back. “Every afternoon you come through here looking like a perpetually toppling heap of academia, and every day after it all tumbles down perfectly onto your desktop, you say that same thing.”

Joyce grinned and pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Well, one of these days, I’m just going to learn to only carry what I can handle.” She pushed the unruly strands of hair back in place and tucked them in with the rest of her hair. “Same thing goes for my schedule.” She looked at her watch. “I have an hour to go pick up some peppers and garlic from the grocery mart so I can start dinner before Greg comes over.”

“Ooh,” Jessica snapped her fingers. “I need to pick up some olives.”

“Would you like to come with? I can drop you back off here. Or you’re welcome to have dinner with Greg and me.”

“Okay,” Jessica nodded with a smile. “That would be great. Maybe we can cook something together in the kitchen, you and I.”

“No, silly,” Joyce grabbed her keys with the large plastic emerald-green keychain that kept her from mislaying them, “you’re the guest. You get to sit and eat. And get to know Greg. I’m the hostess. I get to cook.”

On the ride to the food mart, Jessica began to suspect Joyce’s ulterior motives—the girl rattled on and on about the heroic exploits of Greg, and what Jessica had seen of Joyce’s brother ... he was supporting actor at best, not leading man material.

In fact, Joyce was so enthusiastic praising her brother that she prattled right through the green left turn signal to go in to the food mart parking lot. No cars were behind her, so no impatient horns brought her out of her spiel. When she looked at the light, it was red again. “That’s been red a long time, hasn’t it? O Stoplight, why hast thou forsaken me?” she giggled.

It turned green again, and she made the turn this time.

They got the food and drove to Joyce’s apartment, which was in the same complex as Jessica’s. The apartments were conveniently located for many of the professors on campus without having excessive rent, so they had a high professorial content.

Joyce’s apartment looked like her. There were two piles of clothes on the floor in the corner, and a comforter piled on one side of the sofa in front of the TV.

“That’s Blankie,” Joyce giggled when she saw Jessica studying the sofa.

“Blankie?” Jessica raised an eyebrow as she turned around to look at her.

“Every so often, I feel like a good cry, so I pop in one of my favorite tapes, curl up with Blankie, and ... window-wash my eyeballs.” She giggled. “You should have seen the pile of tissues I woke up with around me this morning. I could have made them into a pillow. Except ... that would be disgusting.” Lop-sided grin.

Smiling, Jessica followed her hostess into the kitchen. “If you’re going to cook dinner, at least I can fix the salad.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“I know. But I would like to. Who knows—maybe you’ll find it so delicious that you’ll fall under my spell.”

Joyce gave a little laugh, and they both started cooking.

Joyce rambled on about her brother until Jessica laid her hands on Joyce’s hips, nominally to move her out of the way to get to the pepper, and Joyce stiffened.

“I’m just getting the pepper,” Jessica smiled, though she let her hands linger there.

Joyce took a step to the right, out of the way.

After a minute, Joyce was back in full roll, trying to sell her brother. Jessica laid her hands on each side of Joyce’s abdomen, and, again, the other woman stiffened.

“You’re okay,” Jessica said gently, “I’m just getting around you to get a large spoon to toss the salad.”

“Jessica ... if you need me to move out of the way, you can just ask me.”

“Oh, hush up, bitch,” Jessica smiled as she reached for the spoon. Joyce had a surprised look on her face, so Jessica reached up to lightly tap her nose. “I don’t mind.”

Joyce didn’t quite get back on track about her brother’s fine points after that. In fact, she seemed to become quite quietly fascinated with the food she was preparing.

Jessica finished up the salads and put them in the refrigerator, then leaned back against the island to chat. “Did you ever experiment much at university, Joyce?”

“Experiment?” Joyce broke her sudden fascination with the food. “How do you mean?”

“Oh, you know. Try new things. See what different lifestyles are like. That kind of thing.”

“I was ... pretty shy back in college” The pasta became very fascinating for her again.

Jessica leaned forward and spoke softly right behind her ear. “Oh, didn’t you ever ... try things. Like our friend Tanya?”

Joyce turned around and tried to step back, but her hips met the counter. “Jessica, we should—”

“Oh, hush up, bitch,” Jessica leaned in and pressed her lips to Joyce’s.

“Jessica!” Joyce jerked her head back , then slid to the side and away. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but I’m not like that!”

“Oh, come on,” Jessica stepped forward, smiling. “I saw that video you and Tanya made.”

“Who?”

“Tanya Koning.”

“What are you talking about? Tanya’s having a problem with Hank.”

“And you were helping her to solve that. And she was,” Jessica stepped closer, smiling, “helping you, with your loneliness. And I would like to as well. Help you. To not be lonely.”

“Okay,” Joyce hurried around to the other side of the island. “I can see that there’s been some kind of misunderstanding here.”

“Okay,” Jessica shrugged. “It’s okay. If you don’t find me attractive, I—look, let’s just forget about it. I’m sorry.”

“But whatever made you think that I was ....”

“Gay? I saw the video, Joyce. You were ... quite intimate ... with Tanya.”

“What video?!”

“The one where she showed you her naked pictures.”

“Again: what video? You said she showed YOU her naked pictures.”

“The video of you and her in your office. I mean, I would have avoided doing that with a student if I were you, but ....”

Joyce was frowning, shaking her head.

“Joyce—she touched you. You kissed her. Down there.”

“I—” Joyce shook her head. “I never did any such thing.”

“Joyce, I saw you, with my own eyes.”

“No, I don’t know what type of game you’re trying to play, but I won’t have—”

“Why, you repressed, denying little bitch! If you’re not interested in me, that’s one thing. But after what I saw you do, don’t try to tell me that you don’t at least swing both—”

“Jessica, I’m 35. With a PhD in psychology! Don’t you think I would know if I had lesbian tendencies?!”

“Are you going to stand there and try to deny—”

“Yes! You’re accusing me of doing SOMEthing with a student?! I never did any such—”

“Fine! If you don’t have the courage to—if you want to just sit in your repressed little—” Jessica stammered as she walked toward the door, then out.

It was a miserable night for Jessica to try to get to sleep—her mind kept going back over what happened tonight. She knew she was feeling more shame than she ought to, but ....

She woke up early the next morning and walked to her office since she had left her car there. She hoped to catch Joyce when she came in and apologize to her. She had just mistaken the signals that Joyce was giving off. Of course, that was easy to do when one of the signals was that video of her and Tanya.

By 9:45, Joyce still had not come in, and Jessica had to go teach a class.

When Jessica got back, Joyce had been in to unlock her office, but wasn’t there. Jessica hung around and ate her lunch at her desk so that she could catch her.

At 12:45, she still hadn’t seen Joyce, and she had to go teach another class.

When she got back, Joyce was in her office. Jessica dropped her notes off in her own office, took a deep breath to prepare, then stepped over to Joyce’s doorway. “Joyce?”

“I ... can’t talk to you yet, Jessica. I’m still too mad.”

“Joyce, it was just an honest mistake. I’m sorry. Now that I know you’re not interested, I won’t push you.”

“It’s not the mistake, Jessica. It’s the—I thought we were friends. I thought you respected me. But you called me a bitch last night. Twice. Is that your idea of foreplay or something?!”

“I just—” It had seemed to turn her on when Tanya called her that in the video. “I’m sorry.”

“And you called me a liar. When I said that I am not interested in women, don’t argue with me. I thought you and Greg might hit it off, not you and ... me. When I say no, I mean no.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Then why did you keep TOUCHING me last night? After I told you to stop?”

“Joyce,” Jessica spread her hands, “I said I was sorry.”

“And I still can’t believe that you—I’m still too mad at you.”

And this was about at the limit of what Jessica was willing to put up with too. “Well, maybe tomorrow, then.”

“Maybe.”

Jessica stepped back over to her office feeling a little angry herself now. It was an honest mistake, and she had apologized for it. There was no need to keep carrying on like this.

When Joyce left at the end of the day, she didn’t poke her head in to Jessica’s office to say good night like she usually did.

Fifteen minutes later, tired, disappointed in her friend, Jessica headed home too.

Jessica did her laundry on Tuesday nights because noone else did. She usually took a good novel with her down to the basement and got an hour or two of quiet reading done while her wardrobe got refreshed for the next week.

Tonight, there was a squeaking noise coming from the laundry room as she carried her clothes basket down the stairs.

Wondering if someone was running a washer or dryer too heavily loaded, she stepped and looked to see what was—

Ohgod.

Some naked guy had some naked woman bent over the front of a dryer facing away from Jessica. The squeaks were coming from the woman’s throat as she got pumped.

Jessica watched the man’s bare shoulders as he brought his right hand back, then whacked the woman on the side of her ass. “Who’s your Daddy, bitch?”

“Ohgod, you are, Hank!” the woman moaned, grinding her pelvis back against his pecker. “You’re my Daddy!”

Hank?!

He started grunting and she started squealing as his hips began their sexual rhythm again.

It ... WAS!

“Hank?! Hank Rollins?!” Jessica gasped.

“Hey, Prof!” the naked young man turned his head and grinned without missing a beat in his ... other engagement. “How ya doin’, Professor Sucrerie?”

“God, Hank! What are you—?!” Was the boy insane?! Just ... having sex right out in public like this?!

“Hey, baby,” Hank turned back to his bitch and reached his right hand around to steady her pelvis so he could continue to rut her as he rotated her around. “Say hi to Professor Sugar, baby.” Grin.

“Hi, Jessica,” the bitch gave a little wave, her hips arched back to receive the stroking of Hank’s prick.

Jessica’s eyes widened hugely. “Joyce?!”

“Tell me how much you love this, baby,” Hank asked Joyce while he stared at Jessica and drove his erection in and out of the other professor.

“Ohgod,” Joyce gasped. “It feels soooo sweet to have your cock in me, Hank!” She giggled. “And out. And in. And out. And in.”

Jessica watched her friend let her tits be handled and squeezed by the asshole football player as he bent her over the dryer again, watched his hard penis glisten as it slid in and out of her, listened to Joyce’s moans beg and squeak.

Finally, both their gasps got louder, then Hank clenched and Joyce wailed.

They both sagged back down and laid propped over the side of the dryer, him on top of her.

Jessica just ... gaped.

“Did you cum, bitch?” he asked after a minute.

“Almost, baby. I just—I just like it when YOU cum! God, between your juices and mine, my pussy’s a mess!” Giggle.

“I don’t ... understand ... you,” Jessica mumbled to Joyce as Hank disengaged from Joyce’s pelvis and dug through a laundry bag.

“I just ... I don’t know ... (giggle) ... Hank can just make a girl really really wet!”

Hank dug a leather collar and chain leash out of the laundry bag, then stood and turned to face Jessica, another erection already setting in at his loins.

“Like what you see, Prof?” he chuckled when he noticed where Jessica’s eyes had landed.

She immediately flicked them from that area of his body.

Joyce bared her neck for him to fasten the collar around it, then he led her around to the front of Jessica with the chain leash.

“I heard you two had a little lover’s tiff last night,” Hank said as he stood in front of Jessica, cock fully at attention now. “And I hate to see a daddyless bitch, Professor Sucrerie. So here,” he handed her the chain attached to Joyce’s collar. “Borrow my slut.”

“I ....”

“I haven’t seen your breasts, Jessica,” Joyce smiled as Hank retrieved a towel and a blanket from a clothes heap. “You’re seeing mine, now,” She traced her fingernails over hers, “but I’ve not seen YOURS!”

Hank draped the blanket over Joyce’s shoulders.

“Oh, thank you, Daddy. But Jessica’s going to play with me now. Right? ‘Cause you think I’m cute, don’t you, Jess?”

Hank wrapped the towel around his waist, though Jessica saw the dark red bulb where his penis head poked out over the top. Hank leaned forward and grinned “I think the little fella likes you too, Prof.”

Jessica jerked her eyes up to his grinning face.

“Just drop her off at her apartment after you’re done using her.” Then he strode off, leaving Jessica holding Joyce’s leash.

Joyce’s hands came up to touch Jessica’s breasts through her blouse. “Take me home,” she smiled, “Take me home, and PLAY with me!”

Jessica stood there, chewing her lip. What could—how could—what was she to—

“Or we can play right here,” Joyce smiled as she dropped to her knees and pressed her face to the front of Jessica’s shorts.

“Up, up,” Jessica whispered and tugged Joyce up by her leash.

“Are we gonna play?” she asked, her eyes bright. “Let me make you feel good!”

God, she was hot!

“Let’s go to your apartment!” Joyce enthused

Well, Jessica guessed she had to get the naked girl out of the public laundry room, didn’t she?

She carried her clothes basket back up while she led the Blankie-covered Joyce along by her leash. Thank goodness they met noone in the hallways.

Once they got to her apartment, Joyce shrugged off the Blankie before Jessica could do anything with her.

Then ... Joyce was just so ... insistent.

Until Jessica finally ... well ... let Joyce pleasure her.

Joyce turned out to be ... extraordinarily good at pleasure.

At some point, when Jessica was on her knees and forearms, ass hiked up, and Joyce had Jessica’s ass cheeks pulled apart, licking her crack while her fingers did marvelous things at Jessica’s clit, well ... Jessica wasn’t sure, but she may even have passed out a few moments.

At 3:00 in the morning, as Jessica laid there, exhausted, on a bed made out of the feathers of orgasm, Joyce planted a tongue-kiss full on her lips. “Thank you, Jessica,” she breathed. “Thank you ... SO much.”

Then she stood, padded to her Blankie and left.

Like waking up with a contented cat purring beside you, Jessica heard the hum of echoes from last night’s love-making, smiled, and reached with her mind to lightly stroke those pleasant memories.

God, who knew?

Who knew that Joyce liked girls?

Who knew that she was so freaking hot in bed. The things that girl’s tongue could do ....

Two days ago, Jessica had just thought that Joyce was cute and intriguing.

Now ... wow!

Who knew?

Jessica sat up in bed, the contented look unremovable from her face.

She knew, now, about Joyce. Ohgod, yes, she knew!

The world was a little brighter, had a little more color in it, as she went to her office.

Jessica was taking a bathroom break when Joyce arrived, and she came back to see that Joyce’s door had been unlocked. The office was empty, so Jessica poked her head into the break room and saw Joyce getting coffee in the otherwise empty room. Jessica stepped up behind, wrapped her arms around her abdomen and purred, “Good morning, lover.”

“Whuh—Jessica?! No! No! No! What are—Ow! Ow! Ow!”

“What’s the matter?” Jessica stepped back from her as she felt Joyce trying to pat at her own knee.

“Ow! You caused me to spill coffee on my knee, Jessica!”

“Want me to—”

“And what are you doing?! We talked about this already! And I’m still mad at you!”

“No, you’re not,” Jessica shook her head softly with a smile.

“You just don’t go grabbing people! I’m not a lesbian! And I certainly don’t care to become one!”

“Sure could have fooled me last—”

“TRUST me! I am NOT! Now go trolling someplace else!” She marched out of the break room and back to her office.

Perplexed, Jessica followed her.

“Doing a little denial, are we?” she laid it out on the table, so to speak, from Joyce’s doorway.

Joyce stared at her, shook her head, then told her, “I don’t want to speak to you right now.”

“What type of game are you playing, Joyce?!”

“Me?! What type of game are YOU playing, Jessica? I told you I am just not interested!”

“But—what about—?”

Joyce’s phone rang, and she answered it, then lightly rolled her eyes and handed the receiver to Jessica. “It’s for you.”

Who would call her in Joyce’s office? “Hello?”

“Hey, Prof.” It was Hank Rollins. “Don’t hang up. I’m just betting that after a truly orgasmic time last night, Joyce is giving you the brush off today. Am I right?”

“I—well, yes.”

“Yeah, she does the same thing to me. She has this denial thing going—just refuses to own up to the things she does, pretends like they never happened. That is, until the next time she gets riled up and wants to use you. And she will—use you, trust me. But then she’ll turn everything around again and deny it all over again after that. There’s a psychological term for that, isn’t there?”

Jessica watched Joyce unpacking her books and going through some papers. “Yes.”

“You know what helps me get through it when she treats me like that?”

Joyce was—the little bitch WAS going to just pretend like last night never happened. “What’s that?”

“I sit back and wonder, how much of my sperm is still swishing around in that pretty little womb of hers?”

Jessica watched her friend. Joyce could deny it all she wanted to, but Jessica had seen Hank ejaculate into her; and if you were to take a sample from Joyce right now, it WOULD test positive for sperm.

“And I’ll bet she had her fingers up your pussy last night, Prof. You tell me if I’m wrong about that.”

Jessica said nothing as she watched Joyce mark a paper with comments in red pen, then chew on one fingernail as she read the next paragraph.

“Where’s she got those fingers now? Hmm?”

In her mouth. She was still subconsciously licking Jessica’s juices off her own fingers as she graded the papers.

“I’ll bet she’s got one stuck in her mouth now as she ponders something. I’m right, aren’t I? Deny it though she may, she still subconsciously craves the taste of your pussy juice, Prof.”

“Yeah ... yeah, you’re right. I mean, about her finger in her mouth.”

Hank chuckled. “I sure can sympathize with you, Professor. Sometimes she almost acts like a guy, dicking with you and then pretending she’s too good to have ever bedded you.

“Anyway,” he sighed, “I just wanted to let you know that you’re not alone. She’s treated all of us like this at one time or another.”

Wait. “’All of us’?”

“It’s some deep psychological need of hers to be a slut or something. Talk to you later, Professor.”

He hung up.

Perplexed, Jessica gave the phone back to Joyce.

“Who was it?” she asked pointedly.

“Just someone trying to reach me.”

Joyce’s lip quirked. “Well, tell them not to call you here anymore. I’m not your secretary.”

Jessica watched Joyce make a show of going back to grading papers like Jessica was dismissed.

“No. You’re not my friend, either,” she muttered, then turned her back and stepped to her own office.

Jessica hated this. Why did so many people let their petty emotions subvert the things they did?

After a dinner alone, she had made herself some tea and walked in to her den to curl up in her big chair. She was wearing her robe and slippers, and allowing herself to feel a little bit put upon by life.

People like Joyce just weren’t happy unless they were in a snit of some kind. They were costly to the people around them, drains on the energy of those that cared about them.

But why did such people always turn out to be so cute?

Well, cute or not, Jessica wasn’t going to let herself get drawn into something like this again. She’d make up with Joyce so they could be civil workmates—that was the only way things could be tolerable with adjacent offices—but she wasn’t going to get suckered in to becoming involved with Joyce again.

No matter what.

The girl needed help. THAT much denial could only be unhealthy, no matter which way you turned it around.

Still, though ... what a tongue that girl had. Jessica sighed.

There was a knock at the door. After a moment, Jessica set down her tea and went to answer it.

It was Hank and Joyce. “What did I tell you, Professor?” he shook his head. “As soon as she got that warm butteriness between her thighs again, she’d be crawling back to you.” He laid the handle to Joyce’s leash across the palm of Jessica’s hand.

“I’m so sorry I was such a bitch earlier, Jessica,” Joyce stepped in to Jessica’s shoulder intimately close and leaned her head in there next to her neck.

“What is ... this?!”

“I told you, Prof, she just gets like this. Can’t do anything with her.”

“I just can’t help it,” Joyce whispered at Jessica’s ear. “I can’t help being a bitch, but then, later, I miss you so. Please forgive me, lover.”

“Joyce, this is just ... confusing.”

“Anyway, Professor,” Hank waved, “you two lovebirds just enjoy each other.” He pulled the front door shut as he left to give them some privacy.

“Joyce,” Jessica sighed, stepping back from her, “this is—you can’t—you can’t TREAT me like this ....”

“Wait,” Joyce held her index finger softly over Jessica’s lips, “just give me ... two minutes ... to explain.” She took the fingers of Jessica’s hand and led her back to her big chair and set her in it. Then she knelt on the carpet at Jessica’s feet, took Jessica’s right calf in her hand, then began letting her fingernails very slowly trace up and down the pretty leg as she shyly talked.

“Jessica, I’m just ... having a hard time admitting ... even to myself ... how attracted I am to you ... I just ... I mean, I’ve never had leanings this way before ... and it’s very scary for me, these ... new feelings ... I never knew all this was inside me ... and ... I just ... need you to go slow with me ... to understand that ... I’ve never done this before ... it’s all new to me, to ... feel the soft warmth of another woman’s body, to ... feel her nails play across my tender flesh ....”

Joyce’s fingers had moved from Jessica’s calf, up to her knee and lower thigh by this point. Jessica’s breathing was becoming deeper.

“I ... this is just ... new to me, and you’re ... you’re my teacher in this brave new adventure, Jessica .. I need you to be patient with me, to ... forgive me if I get nervous sometimes, to make ... allowances for me, because it ... scares me ... it scares me, Jessica, how much I care for you, not just as a friend, but ... I never thought I would be saying this to another woman ... but as my lover ....”

Her fingernail tracings were mid-thigh now and caressing slowly higher.

Jessica laid her hand over Joyce’s and held it from moving any closer to her crotch. “Joyce,” she breathed, “you can’t ... you can’t keep doing this to me.”

Joyce’s fingers pulled out from under Jessica’s, then slowly brushed past them on their way up the rest of the thigh. “I’m trying to convince you that I’m ... worth keeping,” she sighed softly, and her fingertips tickled inside Jessica’s panties to lightly dance up the length of Jessica’s lips and circle just around the button at the top.

Jessica’s lower belly swelled with lust, and she laid her head back, her breathing a little ragged. “You can’t keep ... doing ... this to me, Joyce.”

“But the only thing ... I want to do ...,” Jessica felt Joyce’s lips and tongue licking their way up the top of her thigh now, “is to make you feel ... good ....”

Jessica felt Joyce’s fingertips trace around the upper back of her thighs to the sides of her hips.

“Butt up,” Joyce breathed from Jessica’s crotch.

Jessica raised her hips, and Joyce slid her panties down to her knees and lower, caressing one foot out of them.

“Spread for me, lover,” Joyce softly commanded.

Whimpering a little, Jessica slid her butt forward and hooked her legs over the arms of the chair, her panties still dangling from one ankle. “Ohgod!” she moaned, feeling Joyce’s tongue broadly stroking her, and she laid her hands on the back of Joyce’s head.

Immense pleasure followed for hours ....

At 4:00, Jessica felt the bed shake, and she rolled over in the dark. “Don’t,” she whispered.

“Don’t what?” Joyce whispered back from beside the bed.

“Don’t go.”

“Oh, lover,” Jessica heard Joyce’s voice near her ear, “I will be back to make you moan with pleasure yet again.”

“But ... if you go ... you’ll turn into an asshole in the morning.”

Giggle. “Yes. Yes I will. I’m not ready for the world to know that I’m such a slut, that I’m your personal private slut, Jessica. So I’ll be an asshole and pretend like this never happened tonight. But I’ll be back here again tomorrow night to crawl into your bed and make you gasp and moan.”

That’s unfair to me, Jessica thought. Joyce couldn’t just keep using her like this.

“Doesn’t it make you feel good when I dance my tongue all around your asshole?”

Good?! It made Jessica’s eyes roll back up in her head, it felt so good.

“Mmm, tell me, lover, doesn’t it?”

Jessica felt Joyce’s hand softly on her hip, felt her fingertips slide in to teasingly touch said asshole.

“Tell me,” Joyce playfully sing-songed.

“God, yeah!” Jessica breathed.

“I’m worth keeping, aren’t I, lover? Teacher? She that completes my being?”

“Nnngh ... don’t go ....”

“You let me be an asshole during the day,” Joyce ignored her, “and I’ll make your asshole whimper when I crawl into your bed with you at night.”

Jessica felt the very tip of Joyce’s finger slip just inside back there, and it almost made her want to cry to keep this lover in bed with her.

“Mmmkay?”

“... ‘kay ...,” Jessica breathed. She was ... going to touch herself the rest of the night, reminiscing about the ways Joyce had touched her earlier in the evening.

She felt Joyce’s fingertips slowly stroke down the length of her leg, and a minute later heard the apartment door open and close.

Jessica heard Joyce come up the hall and unlock her office door the next morning at work.

She was ready for her to be an asshole. And she would ... tolerate it. Because Joyce was THAT sweet of an indulgence.

“I feel awful,” Joyce stood in her doorway suddenly, chewing her lip. “We shouldn’t be fighting.”

“I agree,” Jessica sighed. Maybe Joyce WASN’T going to be a shitheel today.

“I don’t know. Maybe I WAS sending off some sort of signal or something. I apologize if I was. I sure didn’t mean to.”

Or maybe she WAS playing some sort of game still. “Uh, not a problem.”

“And YOU have to learn to take no for an answer,” Joyce wagged her finger at her. “I have no desire to go down that path in life. I am perfectly content with boys.”

Jessica shrugged, playing along. “Okay. Sure.”

“That’s understood?”

“Understood.”

“Friends?”

“Friends.”

Joyce stepped over and sat in the chair beside Jessica’s desk. “You know,” she smiled and shook her head, “I never did pick up that you were gay. How long ... have you been ... you know, interested in girls?”

“I, uh ... it’s not like I sat down and made a formal decision one day.”

Joyce giggled and lightly smacked her spread palm down on the edge of Jessica’s desk, then mocked, “I will henceforth no longer like boys. Only women for me after this.” Giggle. “I know. I just wondered if there were any events that triggered you to choose this lifestyle, or if you’d always been sort of ... and just gradually drifted here.”

“More, I guess, the latter.”

“And there I was, trying to set you up with my brother,” she shook her head. “I apologize. I just ... didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. And it’s not like I’ve written men off altogether.” She paused, then smirked. “They have their uses. Like when you need a good pack animal.”

Joyce laughed with her.

“I’m sorry too. I never mean tot push you to ... anything.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Joyce stood and smiled, “Don’t do it anymore ... but don’t worry about it. I’m glad we’re talking again. I need to go teach my class now, but later I’d like to hear about some of your experiences.”

“Some of my lesbo adventures?” Jessica smiled.

“Oh, I don’t mean it like that. Just ... if you feel like sharing, I would be interested in listening.”

“Thanks, Joyce. I’m glad we’re talking again too.”

“I need to run now,” she pointed with her thumb over her shoulder, “but I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

So ... where the hell DID things stand between them now?!

Jessica looked up from her desk to see the pretty blonde student standing in her doorway, then took off her glasses and laid them on the desk. “Tanya.”

“Please, Professor Sucrerie, you’ve GOT to help me.”

“Come in.” Jessica gestured at the chair by her desk and waited for Tanya to continue.

“I—” she sighed and shook her head. “I think I’m still doing things. I think they’re still hypnotizing me and making me do things.”

“Tanya, I told you before,” Jessica sighed, “there’s no such thing as hypnotism. If you’re doing things, there is some reason, perhaps subconscious, that you want to do them.”

“No, they’re doing SOMETHING to me!” she snapped, then calmed herself. “Professor Sucrerie, this ... isn’t me. The things that I think I’m doing—I would never do them.”

“Tanya, did you contact one of the therapists I gave you?”

“I mean, I despise Hank Rollins, but ... there’s this videotape of me, in heels and a frilly apron, using ... a feather duster—and other things!—on his erection! I don’t REMEMBER that! Sometimes I don’t remember ANYTHING I did the night before!”

“Tanya. Did you contact one of the therapists?”

“Sometimes in the mornings, I stretch and wake up feeling wonderful. And then realize that’s because there’s a VIBRATOR buzzing away inside me. But I never put it there! Or at least, I don’t REMEMBER inserting it there. And besides, I never put toys up my butt. I just ... don’t.”

“I mean, I don’t ... use ... toys. But I wake up moaning while they ... vibrate away inside me now. That’s not me! They’ve DONE something to me!”

“Tanya. Therapists. Which one did you call?”

Tanya just looked at her for a moment with a frustrated impatience that she wasn’t “getting this.” Then she shook her head. “None. None of them.” She shrugged her shoulders and looked up expectantly at Jessica. “They were all men.”

“Tanya,” Jessica sighed, “some of the problems you’ve described are potentially serious. When you find yourself having lapses, missing hours from your life—”

“No, you don’t understand. They’re men. All the therapists on your list are men. Men are the ones controlling me. Whenever someone smirks when I walk by, like they secretly KNOW something about me that even I don’t know about myself, or like they’ve secretly seen parts of you that they shouldn’t, or like they’ve stuck something somewhere and made you whimper—it’s always a man that does that. They’re making me—”

“Tanya, calm down.”

“And there are the pictures!”

“The pictures that you showed me?”

“There are more!”

“Of you ...,” Jessica gestured to tease a little more information out of her, “doing things?”

“Yes! They’re making me DO things!”

“Tanya, noone can take control of your mind. That’s just part of a defense mechanism to shirk responsibility for your own actions. I want you to see one of these therapists. They can help you work out your problems so that you don’t have to fabricate and distort reality in order to live with the things you’ve done.”

“You’re NOT LISTENING! They’re making me DO things! They’re ... CONTROLLING me! They’ve hypnotized me and they can—” She snapped her fingers. “The pictures. Let me show you the new pictures, and you’ll understand that I could never do these things.” She stood and started walking out to get them.

“Tanya, the pictures aren’t necessary. I just want you to contact ...,” ... one of those therapists. The girl had hurried off after pictures.

After a minute, Jessica put her glasses back on and went back to grading papers until the girl returned.

“Professor Sucrerie,” Hank nodded, smirking, from her doorway, “I heard you and Joycie gave each other a gaspingly good time last night. I tell ya, our little Joycie sure can suck cock. And I’ll just bet you have your own pet uses for that talented little tongue, hungh?”

The boy was just offensive.

“Don’t answer that,” he nodded with a knowing smile. “I know ya do. And I just know you want to spend some more ‘quality time’ with her again tonight. Of course you do. Am I right? Don’t answer that. Just ... nod if you want me to drop her off again tonight.” He looked at her expectantly.

He was waiting for her to nod, that she wanted him to bring Joyce by on a leash. Of course ... that seemed to be the only way to get that girl to admit that she had a sexual interest in women.

There was ANOTHER one that needed therapy: Joyce needed to reconcile her repressed lesbian desires with her conscious mind, so that they didn’t erupt in these little sexual tantrums.

Joyce’s voice, laden with posed innocence, echoed in Jessica’s mind, “Gosh, I never MEANT to give off signals like that.”

But if Joyce wanted to lay with a woman, she ought to admit those feelings, instead of playing these silly games. They weren’t healthy. For either partner. As a matter of fact, Jessica ought to not put up with—

“You!” a female voice hissed, bringing Jessica out of her train of thought.

Tanya had returned with her dirty pictures.

“Professor Sucrerie, this is one of the ones! He SMIRKS at me. And he—and he—” she scowled at the smirk that just appeared on his face and smacked her hand on his shoulder blade.

“Ms Koning! Stop that right now!” Jessica snapped at her.

“But he—”

“Do. Not. Hit. Him.”

“But he’s one of the ones that makes me DO things!”

“Sit down. And do not hit him.”

“You’re taking HIS side?!”

“I am taking noone’s side.”

“But he’s,” Tanya dropped into the chair, “one of the ones that makes me do things—THINGS—and then smirks about it later.”

“Be seeing ya, Prof,” Hank waved.

“Hank!” Jessica called before he could walk away. She nodded once.

A sly grin sprouted across his face. “You got it, Prof.” He sauntered off.

“What?! Are you COMMUNICATING with him?!” Tanya sputtered.

“Tanya, there simply is no such thing as hypnosis. There is no such thing as mind control. Now I am going,” she picked up the phone and began dialing, “to schedule you an initial consultation with Dr Hargreaves. You need—”

“No!” she held up the prints she had gone to get. “Look! Look at the things I’m DOING! I—they’re MAKING me do these things!”

Jessica held up her index finger to pause the girl while she spoke with the staff at Dr Hargreaves office. “You have an appointment for tomorrow morning,” she said as she hung up the phone. “Dr Hargreaves is a wonderful therapist. He will help you work through your issues. Promise me that you’ll go see him.”

Tanya just sat there, her knee jumping nervously.

“Tanya?”

“Yes! I’ll go! You think this is all MY fault, don’t you? You think that ... I’m ... the one doing these things. That I’m just a slut.”

“I think that you are a confused young woman, Tanya. But Dr Hargreaves can yelp you. You just need to stop clinging to the idea that someone is mind controlling you. It’s immature and unhelpful. You can be stronger than that, Tanya—I believe in you. Admit that you’re the one responsible for your own actions and then try to discern what forces in your mind caused you to act out that way.”

“I ....”

“Go see Dr Hargreaves in the morning.”

“I will.”

“Thank you.”

Seven o’clock came and went with no Joyce on a leash.

So did eight o’clock.

And nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

At midnight, Jessica gave up on getting her Joyce fix tonight, stood up out of the chair she had spent the evening in, washed her wine glass and headed back to bed.

The little prick. He was probably keeping her all to himself tonight.

Under the covers, she slipped her hand inside her panties and tried to pretend her middle finger was Joyce’s wonderful tongue.

It utterly was not the same.

She went ahead and brought herself anyway, then rolled over and fell asleep.

At 3:00, she slipped off the edge of a dream and landed awake and horny in bed.

God ... what a ....

What a dream!

Her lower belly was still swollen with thrill, just from the echoes of it!

God!

And it wasn’t even a woman, but a man that had gotten her libido so riled! Her hand slipped inside her panties, and it felt much more right this time!

He had had no face to see—it was hidden in shadow.

But OH! What a cock!

She had wanted SO bad to just let her fingers dance along the hard veiny length of it, to kiss it, to worship it.

To do anything for it. Anything.

But he wouldn’t let her.

He had—he hadn’t said anything, but ... she had somehow just known that he wanted her on her forearms and knees. So horny she could scream, she had sunk down to the ground before him, hiked her ass up. Wriggled it.

His.

For him to own.

She was his, inside and out.

God!

So excited from the dream that she couldn’t stand it, Jessica shed her nightgown and shimmied to the edge of the bed on her forearms and knees, ass hiked up, just like in the dream. Owned.

By the faceless, nameless man.

Whimpering, she wriggled her ass like she had in the dream.

Take me, her mind pleaded! Take me and make me your bitch!

She felt his hands on her ass. She didn’t know who he was, just this unknown stranger.

That was about to fuck her.

Take her.

The hands kneaded her ass cheeks, then one hauled off and slapped her.

“Ohgod, Daddy, fuck me!” blurted out of her mouth. She didn’t know where that had come from, but she wasn’t really regretful that it came out.

Maybe even a little wetter because of it.

This was really happening! It wasn’t a dream! The faceless man was getting ready to FUCK her!

Her fingers at her clit were a wet blur, getting it ready for him.

“Fuck meeeeee,” she whined, wriggling her ass enticingly.

He slapped her ass again.

“Ohgod, yes! Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck my ass!”

She felt that cock—Ohgod! That COCK!—ride up between her ass cheeks, heard the whimper and gasp from her mouth, like she were watching some dirty movie plotline instead of being the star in one.

She felt it! At her asshole, the head, slicked by her own juices, lightly massaging her anus.

She’d never had it like this, never up the ass before.

She’d never NEEDED it like this.

“God!” burst out of her, “Fuck me! Fuck my ass!”

She wailed as it sank into her, shivered as she came. She had no idea how she took it, all of it, up there, had always heard that this hurt.

There was no hurt now as she clenched her fingers into the mattress, cumming like she’d never done before.

“Oh, Daddy!” she pleaded. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

A new sensation: she felt his prick pulse inside her, felt warmth flooding her lower belly, staining her, staining everything down there as his.

She was his!

The faceless, nameless man’s.

His bitch.

And she was still cumming.

His chuckle caressed her back lovingly as she finally shivered down off the orgasm, down, down, wriggling her ass to bring him the least few drops of pleasure, clenching her sphincter about his tool that had just ... well, just blown her mind.

And sullied her rectum.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she half-breathed, half-gasped.

He pulled out of her, and she sank over on her side, a used tissue, a cum-filled condom made of flesh, dirtied by the faceless, nameless man for his own pleasure and now to be discarded, her purpose served.

With a chuckle, he slap-grabbed her asscheek, then squeezed and shook it a moment.

“Thank you, Daddy ...,” she sighed, complete. She was used. The faceless man had used her and ohgod she was happy now ....

Happy ....

Sated ....

Complete ....

Jessica woke the next morning still with a feeling of contentment.

Good God, what a dream! It was enough to make her abandon women and go back to men—faceless, nameless men.

When she got out of bed, her panties were still tangled around one ankle—she’d gotten them that far off last night when she went through the motions of getting fucked by the faceless man, then came way too hard to give a damn about correcting her state of dress or undress.

She had given her body to him, just one warm throbbingly wet hole for him to ejaculate into.

She guessed it didn’t sound quite so sexy when you said it that way in the light of day.

It sure had her panting last night, though.

She felt so dirty that she thought of douching—she guessed it would be called an enema back there—not because a fantasy, even one as vivid as this one, could actually leave sperm in her, but so she would feel a little more pure and sparkly. Halfway through that thought, however, the idea of running around so dirty and stained like this thrilled her so deliciously that ... well, fuck pure and sparkly.

She dressed and headed into work. One of the students held the door open for her there with a faint smile on his face. “Good one, Prof,” he commented, his smile turning into a smirk.

Jessica walked away shaking her head. Students today were just getting less and less respectful of their professors—symptomatic of the general decay of society, she suspected.

Joyce wandered up the hall a little later, balancing her perpetually toppling stack of books and thermos in her hands and her glasses on the end of her nose. “G’mornin’,” she blurted as she passed Jessica’s door. A couple moments later, there was a huge crash.

“Oh pooh,” she squatted, grumbling as Jessica hurried out of her office to make sure she was okay.

“What—?!” Books were everywhere.

“Oh, the books got into it,” Joyce shrugged. “Skinner was unbalanced, perched on top of Reinhold’s head, and then Freud jumped out of the middle of the stack, the little coward.” She held up the three guilty books, each volume about one of the three men she’d mentioned.

“But you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. No thanks to Freud.”

Jessica stepped to her and knelt too. “Let me help you.”

They both began gathering up wayward books, during which Jessica had a clear view down Joyce’s blouse, and ... the woman wore no bra.

“Oh, Jessica, cut it out. I swear!”

Jessica’s eyes flicked from bust to brow. “What?”

Joyce held the top of her collar together as she continued gathering books. “Stop trying to look down my blouse. I already told you: I am not interested in turning lesbian.”

“But I—you—”

“Can’t you control your own libido?” she tsked.

“But—I just—you—”

“Look, we’ve been through this already, Jessica. We can still be friends if you’re able to control yourself, but if you can’t even keep your eyes ....”

Jessica sighed. I’ve had your tongue up my ass, she thought, and it was a lot more attractive there than what it’s doing now.

“... do you think you can respect my wishes on that?”

“Why, yes, of course,” Jessica smiled. These games—play pure and innocent during the day, and then turn slut at night—were just silly, but Joyce was insisting on them.

“Thank you.” Joyce’s eyes caught the clock on the wall. “Oops! I’m late for a meeting!” She hurried the stack of books into her office onto the corner of her desk, then rushed off.

With a sigh of exasperation, Jessica took a quick bathroom break. As she was walking back to her office afterwards, a student—some jock—was coming in the other direction. “Nice ass, Prof,” he said with a nod and a wink as he walked past.

“Hey!” she spun around and snapped at him, “In my office now!”

He turned around and sauntered one step toward her with a grin. “You gonna bare it for me?”

“No, we’re going to discuss respect. And determine if you get to continue attending this university.”

He held his hand with the wristwatch up and pointed to it with the other hand. “Aww, you know I’d like to Prof, but I ...,” nod, “got class in a bit.”

“In my office. Now,” she growled.

He turned and started walking away.

“What is your name?!” she yelled after him.

He sauntered, ignoring her.

That little asshole! How DARE he?! She made note of his features and stomped back to her office. She’d ... talk to Coach Jefferson later about him, she guessed. Students simply could not be allowed to get away with behavior like that.

Jessica was still in a bad mood when Greg Vail came by. He stuck a post-it note on Joyce’s door, then stopped by Jessica’s doorway. “Well, you missed a great jam session,” he told her.

It’s sad, sometimes, how long people will try to interest another in themselves after it’s been made quite clear that ... it’ll never happen. “Did I?” she sighed.

“We all seemed to be at the top of our form that night. And ... I don’t want to say that my instrument is the biggest ... even though that’s true,” he chuckled at his own bass joke.

She opened her mouth to tell him blunt-out that she just wasn’t interested, but—

But he continued on with another topic before she could, “Did you and Joyce find anything more out about that encrypted drive?”

She’d forgotten about Professor Benjamin’s secret drive. “Uhm, we’re still looking into it.”

“Ah.” There was a pause, and Jessica thought again of just telling him that he stood no chance with her, but he shrugged “Well ... good luck with it. See you later.”

“Bye.”

Jessica started the application that Greg had installed for her, connected to Professor Benjamin’s drive and typed in the password. She figured to check if Tanya’s new pictures were on there, or whether the girl was just making it all up. And, while she was there, she could ... see if anything had been added to the Joyce collection.

There were indeed more pictures of Tanya—so she hadn’t been lying. These were even more explicit, with her actually holding erect penises in her hand.

As Jessica scrolled to the vail_joyce, section, she—

halted.

Studied the screen.

Disbelieved.

sucrerie_jessica_1.jpg?!

What the HELL?!

She double-clicked it.

There she was, standing nakedly at attention, staring dumbly off into space.

Jesus Christ! What the HELL?! What was going on here?!

She clicked on the second picture: stunned, naked profile!

The third: legs shoulder-width, hands clasped behind head to present tit herself! Jessica Sucrerie! The psychology professor!

She clicked through the entire series, each pose just like Tanya’s and Joyce’s, only ... of her!

Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod, what WAS this?! What was going ON?!

Ohgod, no: sucrerie_jessica_assfuck.mpg.

Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod. Stomach blanched and dead heavy, she double-clicked it.

Darkness faded to her crawling around on her bed—in her OWN BEDROOM?!—naked, on her forearms and knees, shimmying to the edge of the bed, hiking her heinie up in the air and wriggling it with a whimper. Hands on her ass, male hands squeezing her buttocks. The camera moved around to film her from the front.

It still hadn’t shown the face of the man yet. Who was he?

He was naked too, his penis jutting up.

One of his hands hauled off and smacked her ass.

Jessica’s stomach churned as she watched that rush of pleasure splatter onto her face. “Ohgod, Daddy, fuck me!” the Jessica in the video blurted.

No ..., Jessica shook her head. No, this was ... last night.

This was her fantasy from last night! But it was just a fantasy! It wasn’t real! It didn’t really happen!

She watched her face—God, could she really get expressions like that on her face?!—she watched herself beg to get fucked, ass wriggling, face pressed to the sheets. She watched the man in the video step up to her ass ... insert his ... up her .... Jessica wanted to claw at her sides, watching that embarrassing slut expression float around on her face. Jessica’s stomach felt like it was trying to crawl out of her, to abandon the body of any woman that could be such an ass whore.

As the man stroked her pitifully whimpering body, he—

Ohgod, no, ohgod no, ohgod no ... please, no, don’t let it be him. Not him.

There ... was Hank Rollins’ ugly face leering over her asscheeks as he pounded his prick in and out of her, in and out of her ass.

While she whimpered and begged, just one huge craving to get ass-fucked.

Ohgod, she’d given up that particular virginity to ....

... oh, PLEASE, don’t let it be so ....

Her stomach rolled as she watched Hank give a thumbs-up to the camera while he gave it to her up the ass, then he smacked her buttcheek possessively.

Please, please, don’t let it be so. Don’t let her look so ... pathetically happy while ... HE ... reamed her ass, please—

“Hi, Professor,” a voice came from her doorway.

Jessica literally shrieked and jumped in her chair.

Tanya took two alarmed steps back from the professor’s office.

Jessica moved her mouse to close the pornographic—and shameful—video playing on her computer.

“I—I’ll come back another time,” Tanya continued backing up.

“No!” Jessica called to her. “No, please, come in. We need to talk about ... a couple things, Tanya.”

“Are you sure? You seem—”

“No, please. Come in.”

Tanya stepped back to Jessica’s office and sat in the chair by her desk. “I went to see the therapist this morning, and you were right—I was just being silly.”

“Actually, Tanya, I think that you were onto something. About the conspiracy. Hypnotizing women. Making them ... do ... things.”

“No, the therapist explained to me how I was just being foolish, how I just couldn’t admit that I really wanted to act slutty, so I made up this fantasy that others were controlling me, making me be a slut. But it was actually just me all along.” Relieved smile.

“No, you were right the first time. There IS someone making us do things! That we would NEVER do!”

It had taken Jessica this long to realize it because it had taken this long for the evidence to be incontrovertible. The “psychologically disturbed” explanation worked for Tanya—she was nothing but a silly little student. And that explanation worked for Joyce too, because she DID have some serious mental hang-ups. But ... this was JESSICA now! She had just watched a dirty movie of HERSELF! And she didn’t DO things like that. SHE didn’t have deep psychological problems that erupted in slutty behavior.

So someone HAD to be controlling HER! To make her do that. To make her look that pathetically happy. While Hank Rollins ... buttfucked her ....

“No, professor, that was the mistake I was making before, when I didn’t know any better, when I couldn’t accept responsibility for my own actions. But after talking with Dr Hargreaves, I understand that’s just a defense mechanism.” Proud smile of understanding.

“No, Tanya, listen to me. Someone has found a way to hypnotize women or mind control them or something! These women are doing things they would NEVER otherwise do.”

“See? You sound like me back when I didn’t know any better, back when I couldn’t take responsibility for my own actions,” she stood and stepped back to the doorway. “You ought to go see one of those therapists yourself, Professor. They can really help you. Just like they helped me.

“And I owe it all to you, for pushing me into going. Now I can take responsibility for what I’ve done. If I act like a slut, it’s because I WANT to act like a slut.” More proud beaming about her psychological maturity.

“Toodles.”

Jessica sat motionlessly in the chair in her office for a long time.

This was awful. Horrific. Unbelievable, but ... abhorrently true. Someone was controlling her mind, making her DO things.

THINGS.

She could expect a student to do things and be embarrassed about them later and try to deny them. And repressed little Joyce obviously had issues. But this was HER! This was Jessica HERSELF, somehow being controlled and forced to do slutty things on film!

There was NO WAY Jessica was doing these things herself!

She knew herself, and SHE wouldn’t do things like that unless she were being controlled!

You have to fight them, her mind knee-jerked back at her.

That was the only course of action to take. Nothing else would let her live with herself.

You have to fight them. And you have to win.

Her fingers moved to double-click the file again. Then she watched in morbid fascination, studied the women with the dumb, happy look on her face as she got her ass prick-scoured.

Then watched it again.

And again.

And yet again.

Whew. She shifted in her chair. This should NOT be making her feel excited.

Repulsed. Repulsed was what she ought to be feeling. And there WAS some loathing and repulsion mixed in there. Somewhere. She WAS a little horrified that someone could ... get such pleasure ... out of being ....

It was just seeing that happy, dumb grin on her face as she wallowed in ecstasy while the man behind her—she tried to pretend that it was not Hank Rollins doing this to her—mocked her and slapped her ass and called her a bitch while he built up to dowsing her rectum with semen. And she just ... loved it—the girl on the screen, not Jessica herself. You could see it in her eyes, could hear it in her moans.

In your moans, that little voice in her head corrected her—you can see it in YOUR eyes, hear it in YOUR moans, the way you love this.

Getting your ass reamed.

You ARE the woman on the screen, the guilt-indulging part of her said.

Okay, she had to stop this. She moved her hand from her lap and clicked the button to close the window. She wasn’t going to watch this anymore, she wasn’t going to let herself. It was just too disturbing.

She was going to go home. And come up with a plan. On how to fight them.

She was going to take back her mind.

By God, she would storm heaven if she needed to, but she would become her own person again.

She pulled out one of those CD-RW thingies they had given her when they replaced her old computer six months ago. She would copy the ... horrible, horrible ... file to it and take it with her. Just in case she needed it later for ... study purposes. She thought she got it successfully copied and dropped it in her purse.

Now she just needed to let them know up front that she was leaving early, so that she would have a job to come back to next week. As she walked up the hallway, a number of male students seemed to look at her knowingly.

Probably just ... her imagination, she guessed.

When she got to the front office, there was a six and a half foot slab of student standing in the doorway. “Excuse me,” she said.

He didn’t even acknowledge that he heard her. He just kept talking to the female student worker across the room at the counter.

“Excuse me,” she said a little louder.

Still no acknowledgement.

“Hey! Excuse me!”

“Ehrngh?” he looked over his shoulder at her. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he stepped aside.

The female student worker was rolling her eyes. “Geez, move over and let the little woman in, Stanley.” Then to Jessica, “You have to forgive him. He’s like a big friendly St Bernard.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, lady.”

“Professor,” Jessica corrected him.

“Sorry, professor. I didn’t mean to block your way. Nice ass, though.”

Jessica snapped her head around to see his eyes coming up from her buttocks. He gave her and the student worker a thumbs-up, then walked out.

“Did he just say—?!”

“Say what?”

Jessica scowled at the girl. “Did he just comment on my ass?!”

“Uh ... no,” the student worker answered cautiously, studying her carefully.

Jessica could have sworn that—

Maybe ... this business had her so overwrought that she was imagining things.

“How can I help you, Professor Sucrerie?”

Bold and direct—that was the way to handle this. “I have an emergency doctors appointment this afternoon, and I need to schedule someone to take my afternoon class.”

“Okay,” she pulled out a planner.

“I really do,” Jessica said after a moment.

The student worker looked up at her.

“Have an emergency doctors appointment.”

The girl nodded and went back to studying the planner.

A couple uncomfortable moments passed while the girl tried to see who was available to take the class.

“It’s not like I’m abandoning my office hours or anything. I just—there’s this emergency doctors appointment.”

“You said,” the girl nodded.

Jessica took a deep breath. She had to stop this. The idea of being someone else’s sex puppet—and anal sperm repository—was throwing her off her rhythm.

The student worker picked up the phone, dialed and talked a few moments to Professor Arnold. She looked down at a post-it pad to scribble something, hung up, then looked back at Jessica. “Professor Arnold will take your class. And this,” she peeled off the post-it she had just written on and handed it to Jessica, “is my number. Call me.”

“What?”

The girl leaned forward to prop her elbow on the counter and set her chin in her palm. “I watched you ... licking Professor Vail’s pussy.” Coy blink. “I want you to do that for me.”

“What?!” Jessica gasped and wriggled. God, she was getting squishy between her legs! And this SHOULD NOT do that for her!

“I said that’s the code to use on your timesheet next week. For emergency medical leave.”

“Oh.” Jessica frowned. “You didn’t say anything about ... watching me?”

“Uh ... no. Are you okay, professor?”

Much of the weekend was an orgasmic haze for Jessica.

She watched the dumb happy girl get ass-fucked by Hank Rollins a couple dozen times. Each time, swearing that THAT was the last time she was going to watch. Each time swearing that she wasn’t going to let her fingers stray into her panties the next time.

How could she get so turned on watching some girl get turned into one throbbing orgasm as she was used—as her ASS was used—by some arrogant little prick to get off?!

How could she get so turned on watching HERSELF get turned into one throbbing orgasm as she was used by some arrogant little prick to get off?!

By the time she asked that question, she was usually too busy cumming, her fingers jammed up inside herself—yes, sometimes in that hole back there—to bother answering it.

Odd, Greg thought as he walked up the hallway: that looked like Joyce’s apartment that young man just came out of. It was too far up the hall to be sure, but it certainly looked like that.

“Dude,” the young man gave a thumbs-up as he walked past.

Greg gave a polite nod and continued to his sister’s door and knocked.

Joyce answered it ... topless!

Greg’s eyes snapped wide.

“J-J-Joyce!” he pushed inside so they could shut the door and preserve his sister’s modesty. “What—?! What are you DOING?!”

She tilted her head to the side, breasts fully on display. “What do you mean, Greg?”

“Your—your—you—” he gestured around her chest.

“Oh, these,” she relaxed and smiled when she realized he meant her tits. “Yeah, I decided to let these kittens play free for a little while. They just love to get out and stretch their feet, so to speak.”

“Joyce, they don’t HAVE feet—just a ... whole lot of ... nipple.” He had no idea—not that he’d ever considered the matter before—that his sister’s nipples were better than two inches in diameter.

“There is, isn’t there? Lots of light pink, too. Do you think they’re cute, Greg?”

“You’re ... uh—”

“My nipples, I mean.” Happy nod, then expectant look.

“Uh ... they’re ... Joyce, I think you ought to cover them up.”

“But why?” They shook nicely as she giggled.

“Uh,” he was trying to focus on her and not on them, “because they’re very distracting for me.”

“Having a hard time looking me in the eyes instead of the tits?” Giggle. Pleasant ripples.

“Uhm ... that’s about it,” he said, his eyes locked on hers, though he wasn’t sure how long that would hold.

“Okay.” She went and grabbed a t-shirt, though it was soon obvious that she hadn’t pulled on a bra first. Still, at least there wasn’t so much flesh all at one time that could not be looked upon.

He made it through his dinner she had cooked for them, and she seemed to forget all about the fact that she had greeted him topless and now was braless, but he was having trouble keeping it out of his mind.

What had happened to his sister, that she would do something like that?

Jessica was a little ashamed.

She would have liked to say that she had heroically assembled a plan to put a halt to whatever conspiracy this was, to break its hold over her, and to bring felony charges against every last participant in it.

Instead, she had ... well ... diddled most of the weekend away.

But she still fully intended to smash the conspiracy.

She was just a little behind schedule.

She was in her office chair, dreading a little turning on her computer. She had had a couple exquisite dreams about faceless men this weekend, and she was afraid of what new files might be out there on Professor Benjamin’s encrypted drive of amateur pornography this morning.

Well, time to find out, she guessed. She flipped the power strip switch to let the machine boot up.

“Jessica, I need your help,” came a male voice from her doorway. She turned to look.

It was Greg Vail.

“You and Joyce were investigating another professor—a student said that he was somehow controlling her mind, making her do things or something, right?”

Wordlessly, Jessica nodded.

“I think—I think they might have gotten to Joyce too.”

“What—what’s she doing?” Besides making out with a student. And getting boned by Hank Rollins. And using her tongue in places and ways that Jessica had never realized it could be used before.

“She—I think there might have been a man in her apartment yesterday afternoon. And then .. she was topless when she answered the door. And she went braless the whole night. That’s just not like Joyce—she doesn’t do things like that.”

This ... was Jessica’s opportunity to recruit help in her fight against ... them. The conspiracy. “Greg ... I was afraid something like this might happen. Tell me all about it.”

Greg gave the details, and Jessica listened attentively—there might be clues here to help her escape “their” sinister clutches.

When Greg finished, Jessica swallowed. The exploits he was describing paled compared to the things Jessica had done to lower herself into sluthood.

But her certainty that she was being mind controlled had been undermined a little this weekend, what with watching herself over and over and masturbating continuously to it. It had even crossed her mind that maybe she—Jessica Sucrerie herself—had a few repressed urges that she might be in denial about.

“Do you—do you think awful of her? For the things she did?”

“No,” he shook his head, “she wasn’t in control of herself, they were. She’s not to be blamed for the things they made her do. They are.”

He was so sure. “Even if—even if there’s no such thing as hypnosis or mind control? Even if they’re just her own repressed urges, breaking themselves free?”

“No, these things that she did—that’s not Joyce. She’s not like that—that’s what made me suspicious in the first place. I know her, I know what she will and won’t do. These weren’t her actions last night. She’s under someone else’s control.”

“Professor Benjamin’s. Him and Coach Jefferson.”

“Did you find—”

“Hey, Prof,” Hank Rollins stood in Jessica’s doorway suddenly, “is chapter 23 going to be on Friday’s test?”

With startled eyes, Jessica traveled back over the conversation moments before Hank stepped into her doorway. Had he overheard anything?!

“Prof? Chapter 23? Test Friday?”

“Uh, no. No, chapter 23. Won’t be on it.”

“How about those behavior guys? And the dogs?”

It occurred to Jessica that this very boy had had his cock up her ass. And her with that unbearable ... look of slutty pleasure ... on her face at the time!

“Prof? Dogs? Bells? Do we gotta know all that stuff?”

“Yes, classical conditioning will be on the test. You need to know the optimal time intervals and be able to compare it to operant conditioning.”

“GodDAMN, that’s a lot of stuff, Prof. I think you should leave off the comparison thing.”

No, no, she would not! This boy had already taken advantage of her, exploiting whatever hypno-controls they had installed in Jessica’s mind to play hide-the-salami between her buttcheeks!

And the other vivid fantasy she’d had this last weekend, the maid-servicing-his-tool thing—that was exploiting her too!

She was not going to tolerate that! She was going to topple this conspiracy and take back her mind! It was HERS, not theirs! And she fully intended to once again be master of her own fate!

And she was CERTAINLY not going to let this boy wheedle easier exams out of her!

“Prof?”

“Yeah, I can do that. I can take the comparison stuff off.”

“Cooool,” he nodded with a grin. “I think you should also—”

“I think Jessica has given you all the information you need about this test,” Greg interrupted. “The rest you’ll just have to wait on until you take it.”

“Yeah, man, I’m cool with that,” Hank nodded, then sauntered out.

When Hank was far enough out of earshot, Greg said quietly, “That was him.”

Jessica’s eyes jumped to his. Greg didn’t know, did he?! About Hank and her butt?!

“He was the one I thought came out of Joyce’s apartment.”

Whew, she relaxed and sighed!

“Jessica?”

She looked back up at him, still feeling stunned enough to swallow cock if one was slapped down in front of her. “Hungh?”

“Back to what we were talking about before. We need to figure out how to save Joyce.”

This was Jessica’s opportunity, she realized, to enlist the aid of another to help save her from being controlled, from being someone else’s sex puppet for the rest of her horny little life. It was big undertaking, to topple a conspiracy, and having another’s help could come in handy.

“Did you find any clues on Professor Benjamin’s encrypted drive?”

“Uh, no,” she shook her head, “no, there weren’t any, uh, clues.” That wasn’t ... entirely ... true, what with Joyce’s lesbian escapades and Jessica’s own little anal ones. But she could just describe all the slutty things that Joyce and Tanya had done and omit her own embarrassing escapades. And then he wouldn’t have to see that ... awfully happy face of Jessica’s while Hank was pounding her butt.

“Damn. That’s a shame. I was hoping that would provide some leads.”

“Nope. No. No clues there.” Just shame and embarrassment.

Greg shrugged. “You’re the rational one—Joyce has always said that you were cerebral, and I believe her. So what do we do now?”

Well, she’d kind of like to sit back in her chair here and let her fingers drift down into her panties while she explored what new video files were on Professor Benjamin’s disk. But ... she guessed that wouldn’t really help them smash the conspiracy. “We, uh, could ... go down and take a looksie around in the biology building, I guess.”

“We can do that tonight if you want. I have a key to that building.”

Jessica raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

“We have a computer lab in the building. We have to shut it down each night at 3:00. So yeah, I do.”

“Tonight, then.”

Greg nodded, then took off.

Jessica was impressed, and it gave her hope. Greg Vail was proving to be useful. With his help, they MIGHT just figure a way out of this predicament.

She redoubled her efforts and refrained from watching any new episodes of the Jessica, Joyce or Tanya sexual sagas that might be on Professor Benjamin’s encrypted drive. She also managed to keep her fingers off of tit, twat and ass.

Jessica answered her door.

And faced a stealth commando in near full ninja gear. Or almost.

Greg Keener stood there in black pants, black boots, a black turtleneck and black leather gloves, with black paint smudged on each cheek.

Oh boy. Leave it to a geek.

“You said at 1700,” he prompted her. “Why aren’t you ready?”

She pinched the front of his shirt and pulled him inside, then went to wet a paper towel.

“We WERE talking about tonight, weren’t we?”

“Yes,” she sighed, coming back into her living room with the wet towel, “hold still.”

“Hey, hey,” he complained as she started wiping the black smudges off, “that’s to keep me from being shiny in the moonlight! It’s the seventeenth day of the moon.”

“And you couldn’t attract any more attention if you loped up here.” She leaned back to study his eyes as she asked, “You didn’t, did you? Lope up the hallway?”

“No ...,” he scowled indignantly, “Geez.”

Most of the smudges came off, though it left his cheeks a little pink. “Give me the gloves.”

“But I’ll leave fingerprints!”

“The rest of the outfit we can explain as poor fashion sense, but not the gloves. Hand them over.”

“You just WANT us to get caught,” he surrendered the gloves.

“Believe me, I don’t want us to get caught.”

He sighed. “Look Jessica, I thank you for your help, but I’M the one with the most at stake here—my SISTER has been compromised by these people. And I intend to free her.”

“And I hope you do—free all the victims.”

“Yeah, well ... maybe I should wear the gloves.”

“No.”

He complained a little bit more, but she successfully got him out of her apartment gloveless and smudgeless, and they headed to the biology building.

“Why are you helping?” he asked quietly as they walked.

“Hmm?”

“Why are you helping me? The impression I got from Joyce last Friday was that you didn’t believe in hypnotism, let alone this girl’s story.”

“I suddenly found myself believing in Tanya’s story. And in hypnotism.”

“Why? Was it something that Joyce did?”

No, actually it was the look on Jessica’s own face as she got her butt hammered by that little football prick.

“Please tell me if she did anything,” he said quietly. “I apologize if she offended you in any way. She’s just not acting like herself.”

“No, I’m not offended by Joyce.” If anything, she was offended by herself. Joyce really HADN’T been playing games. It wasn’t really Joyce that made that video with Tanya or had her tongue up Jessica’s ass, it was some artificial personality they had installed in her. And Joyce really didn’t remember any of it later, and WAS bewildered when Jessica treated her like she was lesbian.

At least with Greg’s help Jessica stood a chance to steal back her mind. “Thank you for YOUR help, Greg. All the victims of these people should be grateful to you for helping them.”

“I’m just trying to free my sister. If they benefit too, well, Joyce would want that.”

He stopped. “We’re here.”

Greg used his key to unlock the door to the biology building, and they entered without turning on the lights. After making their way through the dark to Professor Benjamin’s office, they found a note taped to it:

“Hank, if you get here early, I’m down in the basement with the new bitch.”

Greg’s brow furrowed, and Jessica understood why: it could be his sister that Professor Benjamin was talking about.

“C’mon,” he started off, teeth gritted.

“Greg,” Jessica called after a second, “the basement is this way.”

He turned around and followed her to the stairs, and they took them down, opening and closing the door at the bottom very carefully to be quiet.

The last thing that Jessica did before they left the stairwell at the bottom was to lay her hand on Greg’s forearm and tell him, “Greg, I know this may be hard, but we need to just observe tonight. We don’t know enough about ‘them’ to storm in there.

“If Dr Benjamin is down here, if he is ‘doing’ things to women, even if he is ‘doing’ things to Joyce herself, we need to learn what he and can’t do. We need to just watch him tonight and learn his limitations. Only then can we formulate a plan that stands a chance of smashing them.

“Okay?”

Grimly, Greg nodded.

The basement was set up as an observation lab. Joyce and Tanya were laying on cots on one side of the room, headphones on, imparting God-knows-what to their poor little brains. Dr Benjamin had a video camera set up to record activity at a conference table on the other side of the room.

“Well,” Dr Benjamin spoke to the camera, “we’re almost ready. Our two subjects are almost finished with their programming. Tonight, we have the delectable Professor Joyce Keener and the feisty Tanya Edwina Koning as our guests.

“They’re going to discuss the troubles that Tanya has been having with those terrible, terrible boys that have been mind controlling her. They’ve both been fixed to pay no attention to the camera filming them, nor to yours truly, not even realizing that we’re here, though they’re both feeling kinda randy and will interpret what I say as the voice of reason.

“I also intend to incorporate a couple more-intellectual-than-thou statements that Tanya has told me Professor Sucrerie tried to pull on her—delectable little thumbscrews of guilt! I think you’re going to enjoy them.

“I think you’re going to like this video.”

He left the camera filming and went to remove Joyce’s headphones. He helped her across the room to sit at the conference table then, taking the opportunity to feel up her breasts more than a little. Joyce took no offense—her face registered confusion and passive acceptance instead.

Jessica laid her hand on Greg’s shoulder beside her. The muscles were bunched, but he took her reminder and did not storm in to his sister’s defense.

The professor then similarly groped Tanya as he helped her over to the table as well.

“Okay, ladies,” he clapped his hands. “Action.”

Both women focused rapidly out of their disoriented states into the situation they had been given.

“You ... wanted to meet with me and talk, Tanya?” Joyce asked.

“Yes, Professor, it’s about those evil mind controllers. They’re making me ... do things.”

A silent moment or two passed.

“What kinds of things?” Joyce prompted finally.

“Well ... I—there are these—you see, I never would—not on my own, but—”

“Tell her about the pictures,” Professor Benjamin prompted.

“I have pictures,” Tanya nodded definitively.

“Of you?” Joyce asked. “Doing ... things?”

“Oh, yes,” she nodded. “Things.” She pulled several printed images from a folder and handed them over to Joyce.

Joyce slowly went through the images, frowning at one, then turning it on its side, then upside down before nodding that she had it right and continuing through the rest.

Dr Benjamin steepled his fingers to help himself get into the role of the Voice of Reason. “Tell her what you really think, Joyce.”

Joyce looked at the student. “Tanya, you are ... simply a slut.”

“What?!” Tanya looked deflated.

“Yes, it’s obvious from these,” she flipped back through a picture or two, “that you have all the morals of a raging bitch in heat.”

“But Professor! That’s not me in those pictures!”

“That’s denial,” Professor Benjamin urged, “Don’t let her get away with that. Keep up the tough love.”

“Funny,” Joyce arched an eyebrow sarcastically, “this sure looks like you fellating those boys, and letting them fertilize your eggs, and ... isn’t that Hank Rollins with his penis up your—”

“It’s my BODY,” Tanya wriggled in the embarrassment pooling in her seat, “but it’s not my MIND. They’re MAKING me do these things.”

“Oh, come now, Tanya, that’s a nifty little trick to sidestep blame, don’t you think? ‘EVIL Tanya stepped in and did those slutty things FOR me; it wasn’t me—I’m GOOD Tanya’?”

“But it’s TRUE! I WOULDN’T do those things! Not on my own! Not unless they ... made me.”

“And what’s with these pictures? Is there anyone that you HAVEN’T shown them to? ‘Excuse me, sir on the street. Here, look at these pictures. No, they’re not of me, they’re of EVIL Me. Big difference.’ Do you think that anyone actually buys into your far-fetched mind control explanation?”

“I—but—”

“’Oh, I’m GOOD Tanya. I would never do any of these things. I just like to look at the pictures and think about what HORRIBLE things BAD Tanya has been MADE to do.’”

“But—I—”

“Ask her how she feels now, Joyce,” Professor Benjamin suggested.

“How do you feel now, Tanya?”

“Honestly,” Professor Benjamin encouraged the student.

“I—I—” She cast her eyes down. “Horny,” she mumbled as she wriggled in her seat.

“As a matter of fact,” Professor Benjamin slipped down to Tanya’s end of the table, “this is your opportunity for redemption.”

Tanya looked back up at Joyce.

“She can spank the badness out of you.”

Tanya’s focus clicked on Joyce. “Professor Keener,” she stood and walked up the table, “I—have—please—”

“Uh ... what?” Joyce asked, less overbearing, more cautious now that things were shifting somehow.

Tanya spun around and lifted her little plaid skirt. “Spank me? Please?”

“Wh-what?!”

Tanya backed her ass up into Joyce’s personal space. “Spank me! Please!”

“But—I—”

“Oh, it’s easy, Joyce,” Professor Benjamin explained, “Just haul off and swat the thing.”

Swallowing, Joyce slapped her hand against the pantied ass.

“OHGODYES!” Tanya blurted. She turned around and before Joyce could stop her, laid across Joyce’s legs. “Yes, Professor Keener! Spank her! Spank Naughty Tanya’s ass! She needs it spanked! Spank it until she’s GOOD Tanya again!”

“I—But I—” Whap.

“OHGODYES!”

Whap.

“OHGOD! YES!”

“Uhm, Tanya,” Joyce paused with her hand resting on Tanya’s ass, “we’re a professor and a student. I don’t know if you should really be grinding your pubes into my thigh like that. Besides, you’re getting my leg all slick.”

“Okay,” the girl sighed, relieved that Naughty Tanya had gotten hers. A good couple heinie-swats helps keep a slut like Naughty Tanya in her place. “Thank you.”

Tanya walked back to her end of the table and sat. “God, that feels better! I feel so much less like a whore now.”

“Joyce,” Professor Benjamin suggested, “perhaps this is your opportunity to purge a little sluttiness too.”

“Uh, Tanya ...,” Joyce stood and took a couple steps. “Would you ....”

“Would I what?”

“I ... I’ve been kind of naughty too.”

“You’ve slutted too, Professor Keener?!”

Joyce twisted her fingers a second, embarrassed, “Yeah. I’ve been a little slutty lately too. Could you ... spank it out of me? Please? And make me pure and shiny again too?”

“Of course, Professor,” Tanya patted her lap.

Jessica knew that Greg was bunching up beside her, hating seeing his sister behave like this, like some sexual toy for viewers to masturbate to.

Joyce hurried eagerly to the other end of the table, but Tanya held her finger up. “I only spank my bitches if they’re bare-assed.”

“But ... I’m not your bitch.” She held a finger to her mouth to chew the nail a second. “Am I?”

“Professor Keener, you’re getting ready to bend over and present ass to me for the spanking of it. Of course you’re my bitch. But don’t worry, I’ll spank you shiny of that sinful indulgence too.”

“Oh good,” Joyce sighed, pulled her skirt up, slipped her panties to the floor, then bent bare-assed over Tanya’s thigh.

Jessica laid her hand on Greg’s shoulder blade again, to steady him. They needed to finish reconnaissance, then form a plan, and only THEN attack. They couldn’t just go charging in, guns ablazing.

Tanya lightly stroked her hand over the Professor’s pretty buttocks first, to warm them up.

Joyce sighed as she wriggled under the soft touch. “That’s nice ....” Then, “Oop, maybe you’d better add an extra spank for me enjoying that just now. And you’d better make the other spanks extra hard—I’ve been, uhm ... really slutty ... lately.”

“Have you?” Tanya smiled, still stroking instead of spanking, “Maybe you’d better tell me about it.”

“Oh GOD, no. No, I couldn’t tell you about ... that.”

“About what, Professor?” She cupped one asscheek and gently squeezed, causing Joyce to sigh and arch her back a little. “What do you want to tell me about?”

“I ... no, that’s not right ... no, I DON’T want to tell you about ... that.”

Tanya squeezed the other cheek. “That’s what I said—you want to tell me about what?”

“I caaaan’t ...,” Joyce sighed, ass slowly grinding against thigh under the soft hand’s touch, “It’s too ... it’s too shameful.”

“Oh, but that’s the best kind, Professor ....”

“Oh! OHGOD!” Joyce gasped, grinding her hips harder against wet thigh, “Are your fingers ... are your fingers IN me?!”

“Do you like?” Tanya manipulated her fingers at the professorial twat.

“Oh, but ... I’m gonna need another spank just for this ....”

“That good, hmm?”

“Enough!” Greg suddenly stood and stepped into the open. “You get your fingers out of my sister!”

“Moron!” Jessica hissed to herself.

Joyce stiffened, nervous and compromised, bared nude buttocks clenched anxiously as her brother made his stand for her honor while her panties were down.

Tanya sat wide-eyed, hand clenched in place in the professor’s pussy by Joyce’s tensed buttocks and thighs. “Uh ... I’m sorry ....”

“It’s okay, girls,” Professor Benjamin stepped forward to assure them, “Everything is just fine. You two take five and pleasure each other a little more. No cumming, though.”

With a sigh and a smile, Joyce relaxed her naked ass, and Tanya went back to wriggling fingers around inside twat.

“You—!” Greg jabbed a forefinger at the other man.

“Professor Ernest Benjamin,” he spread his hands, “at your service.”

“How can you DO this?!” Greg demanded. “How can you do this to these girls?!”

“You’re ... upset,” Professor Benjamin allowed.

“Christ, what have you done to my SISTER?!”

Joyce was mildly giggling as she got her pussy well-fingered by a female student.

“Professor Sucrerie,” Professor Benjamin called, “come on out. There’s no need to skulk about in the darkness there. Perhaps you can explain to Mr Keener here the defense mechanism of denial and about the eruption of suppressed desires.”

Jessica stepped forward to stand beside her foolishly brave partner. “How are you making ... them ... do these things?”

“You tell me, Professor. How AM I making these otherwise proper ladies ... whore?”

She could feel Greg’s energies bunch in anger beside her and began speaking to hopefully diffuse those energies. They still needed to learn more about he conspiracy before attacking it. “From what I’ve seen tonight, it looks like you’re exploiting the dissociative mechanisms.”

“Please, go on,” Professor Benjamin put his fingers to his chin and nodded.

“It looks like you’re collecting socially unacceptable behaviors together under a separate personality,” Jessica said slowly. This was as relevant to saving herself as it was to saving Joyce. “This lets the woman indulge in activities she otherwise would not permit herself, things she doesn’t think she would ever do, not even in her darkest dreams.

“It would also ... help protect the things you’ve done to her from being rejected since her psyche doesn’t have to attack it so strongly. Joyce doesn’t have to question herself so deeply, since it wasn’t really Joyce that did all those slutty things, it was Bad Jessica. I mean, Joyce. Bad Joyce.”

“Wonderful, wonderful,” Professor Benjamin nodded, “You’re thinking like a true molester of women, Jessica.”

“No, you and everything you’ve done repulses me, you monster!”

“No,” Greg was shaking his head. “It sounds like you’re saying that Joyce already had all this inside her and Professor Benjamin just made it okay to let it out. That’s not—”

“I think that’s pretty much what it is, Greg,” Jessica looked at him.

“No,” he was still shaking his head, “Joyce would ... never ... have sex with a student. Or run around with her breasts bared. Or let someone ... finger her ... while other people were in the room.”

“Wouldn’t she? Under the right circumstances?”

“No.”

“Come on, Greg,” Jessica looked at him. “I know you put her up on a pedestal, but we all have these socially inappropriate urges buried inside us. The id. We just ... never let them out.”

“It’s true,” Professor Benjamin sided with her. “It’s the shadow side that we try not to let other people see. But if you could make it okay for that shadow to come out, you might even see, an otherwise proper lady, say, hike her heinie up in the air and beg some faceless stranger to ‘fuck her ass’.”

“You’re not saying that JOYCE—?!” Greg growled.

“You might even see an otherwise proper lady let her selfish cravings subvert her prized intellect with a mechanism called ‘rationalization’. She would twist things so it was ‘okay’ to let evil mind controllers bring her friends to her on a leash. So that they could continue to perform sexual tricks for her.”

“Now I KNOW that you’re lying! Joyce would NEVER betray her friends like that!” Greg rejected outright the very concept of Joyce being that traitorous to her friends.

“Why, you might even see an otherwise proper lady sabotage a rescue attempt, an attempt to put an end to the evil conspiracy. She would betray her friends, the victims and even her partners in the rescue attempt.”

“No, you’re wrong. You’re just wrong! She would NEVER do any of those things!”

“Professor Sucrerie, help me with this. Come here,” Professor Benjamin crooked his finger.

“Wh-what?” Jessica asked suspiciously, feeling the simmering of excitement in her belly despite Professor Benjamin’s examples coming uncomfortably close to the very things that SHE had done.

“I said, come here.”

“I—” She took a step toward him. “What do you want?” Another step.

“Jessica, stay here with me,” Greg cautioned. “Out of reach of this monster.”

She took another step.

“I don’t want him grabbing you and trying to use you as a hostage.”

“That’s good, Ms Sucrerie,” Professor Benjamin told her now that she was halfway there. “Now ... hike up your skirt.”

“Wh-what?!”

Professor Benjamin rolled his eyes. “And you call yourself a professor. It’s a simple command: hike up your skirt.”

“But ... I ...,” she glanced back at Greg, “he ....”

“I’m sure that Joyce’s brother would enjoy a good flash of well-toned ass. But I’m trying to prove a point to him—that we all hold these unspeakable urges and desires. So, again: hike up your skirt. Bitch.”

“You leave her alone! Jessica, get back here. He’s messing with you, trying to psych—”

Jessica pinched the hem of her skirt and lifted.

“Jessica! Stop that!”

“I’m sooorry,” she hopped a little from foot to foot. “I just ... it’s just that ... ohgod, I can’t HEEEEEELP myself!”

“Now, Mr Keener,” Professor Benjamin told the man who’s jaw had just dropped, stunned, “there will be something written across those light pink silk panties in permanent marker.”

“What?!” Jessica gasped, skirt still hiked up. “I have something written—?! What?! What’s it say?!”

“Jessica,” Greg cleared his throat, “why do you have ‘Ernest’s Bitch’ written across your ass?”

“What?!” She cocked her ass out to the side and tried to look over her shoulder to read it herself. “I don’t really have—do I?”

“This is where I give some sort of line about ‘the importance of being Ernest’s’,” Professor Benjamin chuckled.

“You ASSHOLE! You got to her TOO!” Greg was clenching his fists. “Jessica, how could—when?! Did you know?!”

“I—I just—Greg, I—it’s just—” she stammered, heinie still declaring her status in big billboard letters.

“I take it from this,” Professor Benjamin drawled, “that he is not yet aware of the porn films you’ve starred in.”

“Por—” Greg began. Then everything went dark for him.

“What the hell?” The back of Greg’s head hurt, and he reached for it.

Except that his wrists wouldn’t move. Focusing his mind from where it had been scattered, he realized he was handcuffed to the cot he was lying in.

“He’s awake!” Joyce called, excited.

“Joyce! What happened? Did we escape Professor Benjamin?”

“No, I clubbed you over the head, silly!” she grinned.

“You WHAT?!”

“It’s okay, though. It wasn’t Good Joyce that did that, it was me: Bad Joyce. I’m just so NAUGHTY,” she grinned.

“Joyce, what—?!”

“Do you like her, Mr Keener?” Professor Benjamin asked as he walked up. Jessica padded along beside him, topless, wearing only the panties that declared her to be “Ernest’s Bitch.”

“You!” Greg strained pointlessly at the handcuffs and made his lingering headache hurt a little worse.

“You have Professor Sucrerie to thank for this new twist. She really is quite ingenious when it comes to defense mechanisms.”

Greg’s eyes jerked to her, and she blushed to the tits.

“She’s been trying to reconcile betraying Tanya’s trust and then the treachery that she’s shown Joyce. At first, she tried to rationalize that it was for their own good, that Tanya was just being forced to grow up, and that Joyce was being forced to confront her ‘true’ lesbian leanings that she had suppressed all these years.

“When that became a little thin, even for her, just a few minutes ago, she latched onto this good twin-bad twin idea, as you observed. I think it’s delightful with a host of useful features.

“And the little fib she came up with is true. My bitches no longer need to fight being my bitches. Because it’s not really them, but their bad selves doing those things. Isn’t that true, Joyce?”

“Oooh, I’m so NAUGHTY!” Joyce grinned, eyes alight with playful mischief. “I’m NAUGHTY Joyce!”

“Joyce! Don’t do this! Fight him! Fight this!”

“It’s okay, Greg, this isn’t really me. It’s Bad Joyce right now. And, ooh, is she baaaaad!” She stepped behind Professor Benjamin and reached around to begin unbuttoning his shirt.

“Joyce!” He jerked his head to the other, topless, professor. “Jessica! Help her! You two can take him. We have to get out of here!”

“I’m sorry, Greg. I’m Ernest’s bitch. Look,” she backed up and cocked her pantied ass out for him to read, “it says so right here.”

“You’re talking to a web of rationalizations, Greg,” Professor Benjamin told him. Joyce was unbelting and unsnapping him now.

“Jessica! You have to fight him! Look what he’s done to Joyce, how he’s treating her! He’s going to do the same thing to you!”

Jessica whimpered. “I’m ... his bitch, Greg.”

“The cool thing is that she’s done this to herself. I started to incorporate the bad twin idea into Joyce while you were unconscious, but our little Jess here has talked herself into this all by herself. Quite remarkable, really.”

“Jessica! Fight it!” Greg strained at his cuffs. “You’ve GOT to fight it!”

“For Greg’s benefit,” Professor Benjamin spoke while Joyce moved to squat in front of him and remove his pants, “when did you first realize that this was more than just a bunch of silly girls, including Joyce, acting out their repressed sexual desires and angst?”

Jessica looked down. “When ... when it happened to me.”

“Interesting. So another psychology professor can still be subject to denial, repression, and a whole host of other defense mechanisms. But ... not you? You’re privileged? Immune to such human weaknesses?”

“I ...,” Jessica fidgeted toplessly.

“It must have been Bad Jess that did that.”

“Yesss,” Jessica sighed. “It was her. She’s ... she twists things around to make herself look good sometimes. She’s just awful that way.”

“Ohgod!” Joyce gasped. “You’re so HUGE!” She was in front of Professor Benjamin, looking up hungrily at his wonderful erection.

“Joyce, please,” Professor Benjamin lightly chided her, “Your own brother is here listening to you talk like this.”

“It’s okay, Greg,” she looked around at him, “It’s just Bad Joyce talking. She’s SUCH a slut! It’s not really me.” Satisfied that she had explained things, she turned back around slowly, lovingly, stretched up to ... lick it along the length of its underside.

“You BASTARD!” Greg yelled at him, muscles tensed, cuffs taught.

“No, it’s okay, Greg. This isn’t really your sister licking my cock. It’s Bad Joyce. See?”

“Bastard!” Greg pulled as hard as he could against the cuffs and the frame of the cot, then sagged back. Joyce has Benjamin’s pecker in his mouth by this point. “Jessica! You’ve GOT to help her!”

“I’m sorry, Greg. I’m Ernest’s bitch. At least Bad Jess is.”

“Then bring back Good Jess!” he tried.

“Noo ... she wouldn’t be able to bear how bad I’ve been.”

“Jessica! How can you DO this?! How can you betray Joyce this way?! She’s your friend!”

Jessica fidgeted.

“How could you betray ME?! We’re on a mission together to help free the victims! How could you LIE to me about already being corrupted?! I wouldn’t have brought you along with me to save Joyce if I’d known!

“For chrissake, Jessica, you were already one of their PAWNS! Didn’t you think that was an important DETAIL to mention BEFORE we set out on this rescue mission?!”

She uncomfortably shrugged.

“I would have left you behind if I’d know you were already Ernest’s bitch! How COULD you?! How could you not TELL me?!”

“Greg ... I ....”

“If we could borrow Greg’s attention over here,” Joyce giggled. She was naked now, holding onto Professor Benjamin’s hard-on with a mild stroking rhythm. “I want you to see just how bad Bad Joyce is, sweetie.” She was vile ,but still with Joyce’s playful light in her eyes.

“Joyce, don’t,” Greg shook his head. “Don’t do this.”

“It’s okay, little brother. Just remember: it’s not really me, it’s Bad Joyce. It’s just Bad Joyce doing these horrible, horrible things.”

“Joyce, don’t ....”

She led Professor Benjamin by the cock down to the bottom of Greg’s cot, then slid between his feet and stretched up to lay her hands on his hips while cocking her ass out to receive. “Look at me, Gregory. Look at my eyes while I take this ... prick.”

“Joyce,” his eyes did follow hers unbearably. “Jessica, help her!”

“Jess,” Professor Benjamin suggested, “why don’t you come down here and position me for the slide in.”

Topless Jessica walked to where Joyce was bent over, making soothing sounds to her little brother while waiting for the cock of the conspiracy to stuff her full.

God, Joyce had a cute ass, she thought. She looked a question at Professor Benjamin, and he nodded. The she ran her hand over Joyce’s butt and lightly slapped it.

“Oooh!” Joyce squealed. “You behave back there, Jessica! You—oh! OH! OHGOD!” Her eyes languidly closed as she shivered a little. “Ohgod, Professor Benjamin, THANK YOU! OHGOD, that feels gooood!”

“Tell your brother about it.”

“Oh, Greg! Greg, look at me. Greg ... look me in the eyes. See how happy I am. I’m getting my pussy massaged, Gregory, and it feels great.”

“Joyce—Don’t—”

Jessica was beside him then, whispering. “It’s okay, Greg. It’s just Bad Joyce. She has nothing to do with the Good Joyce you know and love. Well, other than being in the same body. I guess that means ... that Good Joyce will have to put up with the slimed-up pussy from Bad Joyce’s naughty excursions.”

“You’re not helping here,” Bad Joyce told her as she rutted back against the professor’s cock.

“Help her, Jessica! How can you DO this?! How can you just BETRAY her like this?”

“It’s ... not me. It’s ... Bad Jess.”

“OHGOD!” Joyce squealed. “Oh, Greg! He’s pulled it out of me. He’s running it ... up and down my ... OH! He’s sliding it along my CRACK, Greg!”

“Joyce! Fight it!”

“No! YOU fight it! I WANT it! Please, Professor Benjamin—”

“Go ahead and call me ‘Daddy’, Joyce.”

“Yes, Daddy! Please, please, PLEASE don’t just tease me with that!”

“JOYCE! Fight it!”

“Oh, Daddy! RAM me with that thing! Do it! Don’t! Don’t stop! Put it in me! Pleeeeease!”

“Hush,” Professor Benjamin slapped the side of her hip. “Jessica?”

“Yes, ehr ... ‘Daddy’?”

“Go pull that counter drawer open, won’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She did so.

“There should be something inside it.”

“A hypodermic? It looks like you already have it ready to go with a dose.”

“Take it out of the drawer and bring it over here.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Don’t you DARE!” Greg strained at his cuffs. “Haven’t you done ENOUGH to her already?! Leave my sister alone!”

“Oh, it’s okay, Greg. I’m enjoying this,” Joyce sighed, then pouted her lips, “Or at least I will if Daddy will ever shove it in me.”

“The hypodermic isn’t for Joyce, Mr Keener.”

Jessica was standing there with the hypodermic, and Greg made eye contact with her. “Don’t, Jessica. Fight it. He can’t control you if you don’t inject yourself with that! Fight it! You have to resist him!”

Professor Benjamin chuckled. “It’s not for her, either.”

Greg’s mind absurdly wondered if it could be injectable viagra or something for Professor Benjamin’s personal use?!

Then his eyes widened: he understood. “No. You can’t possibly—”

Professor Benjamin gestured with his chin, then began eliciting purrs from Joyce as he recommenced sliding up and down her crack.

“Jessica, don’t!”

“I’m sorry, Greg. I’m,” shrug, “Ernest’s bitch.”

“JESSICA, DON’T! FIGHT IT!”

She sank the needle into Greg’s arm as he strained uselessly at the cuffs.

God! What a dream!

Jessica sat upright in bed, a little afraid.

That was a vivid one. Like the one with the faceless man and her butt. Or the one where the three football players had her dress up like a naked cheerleader for them. or any of several others she’d had this last weekend.

And like them, it left her wanting to just sink her hand down between her legs and ... think about it. Over and over.

She almost suspected those others of being real. But this one ... couldn’t ... be real. Please.

Please don’t let it be.

She didn’t want to sabotage Joyce’s escape from this conspiracy. She didn’t want to help “them” think up better ways to brainwash their victims women. She didn’t want to ... inject the one remaining hope of escaping all this while his sister had sex at his feet, writhing and telling him in explicit terms just how very good it was.

She didn’t want to do that.

Jessica didn’t think of herself as a bad person.

She couldn’t beat them, she realized suddenly.

She couldn’t beat “them”. “They” were too sneaky. Whatever inhuman treachery that Jessica could imagine, they could be worse.

Run.

That was the only choice left to her now. Literally, because if she stayed, she would be a puppet. A sex toy. A bitch to bend over and give it to.

Goddammit! She reached down between her legs at the delicious calling there and ... stroked. God ... yes ....

She came, gasping.

Then got back to business: leaving. She dug her suitcase out of the closet and ran around, packing essentials.

Her only choice was to leave, to get far away, to stay hidden from “them.” She just prayed that “they” weren’t widespread, couldn’t trace her, would just let her live out the rest of her life in peace.

She felt sorry for Joyce, she really did. And for Greg, who she had ... helped victimize. But they were on their own. She would be lucky to save herself, she couldn’t compromise her escape by trying to help save them too.

She headed to the front door, with the plan of just getting into her car and driving, to get as far away as she could from this awful situation, to change identities if she had to, but to just get away from this conspiracy and what they were doing to her, what they were making her like.

She opened the door and—

—there stood Joyce and Greg.

“We came over to invite you to dinner,” Greg smiled.

“Won’t you join us, Jess?” Joyce asked.

Lust flooded at Jessica’s crotch.

The suitcase dropped from Jessica’s hand to the floor.

“O ... kay,” leaked out of her mouth.

“Mmm, that was delicious, Joyce,” Jessica dabbed her napkin at the corners of her mouth.

“I knew that East Indian was your favorite and wanted to fix you something really special,” Joyce smiled, “Especially considering how you conveniently overlooked that I was being mind controlled while you took advantage of me sexually. And me not even a lesbian.”

“Uh, listen. About that, guys—”

“Hey, don’t give it a second thought,” Greg shrugged. “That football player, uh, what was his name?”

“Hank,” Joyce supplied. “I’ve had his cock stuffed up inside me too, thanks to Jessica. She let him do that to me as long as he kept bringing me to her on a leash.”

“Yeah, Hank. He would have done the same thing in your place, Jessica. He would have stuck that hypodermic in anyone that tried to stop the conspiracy. So that he could keep using the victims to pander to his base desires, like a hyena feeding on leftovers from a lion’s kill.”

They were all silent a moment.

“Dinner was great,” Greg sighed. “Why don’t you go get ready, Joyce.”

Giggle. “I thought we’d never get to this part. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Where’s, uhm ... she going?” Jessica pointed after the departing Joyce.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be right back. Could you tell me again how there’s no such thing as hypnosis or mind control, Jessica?”

“Well,” she shrugged, then reached for Greg’s crotch to unzip him, “There’s not. I’ve done two studies on it already. All the evidence points to the so-called ‘phenomenon’—could you raise your hips?”

Greg did, and Jessica continued as she slid his pants off for him, “is nothing more than elaborate role playing, with the so-called ‘subject’ trying to please the so-called ‘hypnotist’. God, you have a magnificent cock, Daddy.”

Wait a minute. That didn’t fit there. She shouldn’t be calling Greg Keener “Daddy”. Nor should she be complementing him on how grand his erect penis was. But there it was ... all just really grand.

She must be Bad Jess right now, she deduced.

“Do you want to sit on it?”

“Oh, please! Could I, Daddy?”

“Stand and strip first. And tell me how Joyce could not possibly be mind controlled.”

“Well, she can’t,” Jessica began unbuttoning her blouse. “There’s no such thing as mind control. Claims that ‘the big bad conspiracy MADE me do that’ belong right up there with reports about crop circles and Elvis sightings. They make for good tabloid press, but ... c’mon, get real, people.” She dropped her blouse, unsnapped her bra and let it fall forward to expose her breasts.

“And in Jessica’s case in particular—wait, I mean Joyce’s case in particular.”

“Ah-ha,” Greg pointed at her with a grin. “You just made a Freudian slip!”

“Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, even when it’s buried inside a congressional intern,” she huffed.

Greg shook his head.” What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Joyce is so obviously repressing all these sides of her that she doesn’t want other people to see until they just ... erupt.” She let her skirt, then her panties drop to the floor, and she stood before him in just the four-inch heels she had slipped on for dinner.

Joyce reappeared then, wearing only a pair of five-inch heel, thigh-high black leather boots, and carrying a very short leather riding crop.

Joyce felt her buttocks squeeze in anticipation and a whimper escape her mouth.

Soon Jessica had her lips wrapped around Greg’s cock, her tongue massaging it’s sensitive underside while Joyce stood behind her lightly slapping the crop on her ass cheeks.

“How COULD you, Jessica?! How could you DO that to me?! How could you take my leash and make me perform lesbian tricks for you?!”

“Mmm mmmrreee,” she apologized around Greg’s slobbered-up cock in her mouth.

“How could you piss away my only escape—YOUR only escape, too—from these monsters?! Did you WANT to be just a sex puppet?! How could you stick that needle in my little brother?! He was going to SAVE us! Now he just wants to fuck your mouth while I spank your ass and shame you for the camera!”

“Yeah,” Greg gave his hips a little more oomph to push his cock a little further down Jessica’s throat, eliciting a slight gag, “how could you?”

“Mmm mmmreee.”

Joyce swatted her ass a couple more times, and Jessica started cumming, face impaled on cock, ass hiked up for shaming.

“How COULD you?!”