Jocasta peered through the window of her private dorm, vitreous green eyes focused on the main building of Gehymnis Academy and its two white bell towers, erected side by side. The one to the left of where she stood rang at the beginning and at the end of each school day, three simple notes the students loved, even more when the sun was about to go down. The one to the right was reserved for special occasions like the anniversary of the institution or graduation ceremonies. Never in the history of the prestigious supernatural establishment had they rang simultaneously... until that day. As they did, echoing each other’s sounds in a cold dissonance, droplets of rain hit the glass window. Change was in the air, infecting the once clear skies with leaden clouds now coming undone.
The leader of the Amazonian Guard looked away from the encroaching darkness and sighed. For over eighty years, she had served the cause of humans and preternaturals alike, bringing order to the chaos of omens and contradictory emotions that ran amok within those walls. Despite her longevity, she never expected it to last forever, but each day was one step closer to eternity than Hell, and yet...
The door behind her rustled and Elinne walked in, ceremonial braids in upheaval, dark leather uniform dripping. She had been standing by the main gate when Nature cried and she too was a mess.
The two of them were alike, almost as if they were sisters, despite not sharing any familial relationship. Both didn’t look one year older than twenty-five, and their gaze shared the same magnetic influence. Standing at almost six feet seven with chiseled muscles in perfect shape, they were the epitome of classic, effigies of dark hair and even darker lips, used to commanding respect and bending it at will. They kept the order on the inside whilst securing the outside perimeter from prying eyes. Though they could be severe, more than often they were just fair. Honor was at the core of every decision they took to protect those that needed them and even the ones that dared to believe they were above such things. For the elite of the elite, failure was just a random combination of sounds and not an actual word. If anyone thought otherwise for even a split second, they had no place there.
Because of their status, revealing any emotion was a dangerous game, even more so when there were students around whose special abilities consisted on their manipulation. All members of the Guard underwent a rigorous training of mental purification before being allowed to serve. They seldom broke their discipline even in private but Elinne didn’t care.
“You can feel it too, can’t you?” She asked, grave voice, purple eyelids not doing anything to contain her troubled gaze.
“Hard not to,” Jocasta agreed, hands behind her back... “And the same goes for your uneasiness, my friend.”
“Yes, I’m worried. Do you think the rumors are true?”
“Didn’t I ask you not to talk about those?”
“Yes, you did, but...”
Jocasta could have silenced her for good right there but, for the first time in ages, she was inclined to believe evil was about to get a victory and if her most trusted companion saw it too...
“I share your concerns,” she replied, an easy and diplomatic way to reveal how terrified she was on the inside, too. “but this must remain between us. For the good of the Academy.”
“You are right, of course. Forgive me, it’s just...”
“I know, Elinne. I know.”
All schools are plagued by gossip, half-truths, and complete lies whispered in deserted corridors or inside closed doors. Gehymnis was no different. While most proved to be harmless stories good for a laugh or two, some proved far more dangerous than their initial conception, dark conspiracies to turn the status quo upside down. At the center of most of them were The Twelve, The Atlantean Descendants or, as Jocasta liked to call them “The Sea Bitches Washed Ashore”, embodied hypnotic dreams yet true nightmares underneath. All of them were a real piece of work with their mellifluous seductive ways but no one was more tantalizing than Delandra for she believed herself to be a Queen and a Queen without a kingdom is a time bomb waiting to explode.
Over the years, they had had too many headbutts, yet things had escalated after the mental assault on Professor Derrick Evans, a human whose company Jocasta very much enjoyed. He was sweet and caring, even if shy, and one of the few who didn’t take advantage of the notorious height difference to perv at her boobs at any given chance. Messing with him had been a personal affront, one she would have dealt with in uncontained fashion if it weren’t for the Headmistress’ intervention.
Like Delandra, Jocasta and Abigail rarely saw eye to eye but the two women respected one another or at least she thought so. However, ever since the aforementioned incident, the behavior of the most powerful woman in the institution had become erratic. The unofficial story was that she had struck an ominous deal with the Twelve, one that would jeopardize them all. Those were the rumors Elinne was referring to. Could the bells prove them right?
As if wanting to put an end to all doubts, they struck again right before the Headmistress’ voice echoed loud and clear through the Academy’s main intercom as if she were in the room with them.
“Jocasta, you are to report to my office right away. There’s a matter of great importance I need to discuss with you,” she said.
The Amazons looked at one another and growled, an instinctive response to one of the greatest offenses in recent history. Former Headmistresses always conducted direct communication with the security team through private magic channels and never out in the open. Abigail’s precedent was as dangerous as it could be. Aware of the fact, three more warriors barged in the room, runic spears in hand.
“What’s the meaning of this?” the leader of the small group queried. Her name was Iona, and she was the third in command. “Why is the human breaking protocol?”
“I don’t know,” Jocasta shrugged. “Unfortunately, there’s only one way to find out.”
“You can’t go like this!” Elinne begged. “She’s undermining your authority with such disrespect. The whole school will...”
“I’m well aware of the consequences but she’s still the Headmistress, and we all made an oath.”
“An oath to Gehymnis, the institution, not her!” Iona spat.
“She is Gehymnis, they’re still one and the same.”
“At least ask her why the public summon then,” Eline suggested. “We need answers and we need them now!”
“Will that make you all feel more at ease?”
“Yes,” the other women agreed.
“Okay then,” Jocasta noted as she moved to the center of the room and swept the rug at her feet away. Drawn with ancient royal soil of Themiscyra, virgin tears, and pig’s blood, the magic circle was a remnant of the leaders that had come before her but still more effective than smartphones or other technological advancements. As she stepped inside it, the interconnected lines glowed white, pulsating in unison with her beating heart.
“Headmistress, can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, Jocasta,” Abigail responded, her rudeness not hidden at all. “Why are you wasting time reaching out to me instead of answering the call pronto?”
“You know why. You violated a capital rule of our agreement.”
“Did I? Well, some rules are obsolete nowadays, anyway. I will sever this connection now. Come to my office like I ordered you to so we can continue this conversation. Ciao!”
The glow faded into blackness, all incantations depleted.
“What in Athena’s name?” Iona frowned, flabbergasted. “This is mockery after mockery! Jocasta, you mustn’t let her get away with this outrage.”
“I will listen to what she has to say but be on the ready if something goes wrong, understood?”
“As you wish.”
“Good. Elinne, you’re in charge of the Academy’s security until I return. Don’t to anything foolish, okay?”
“Yes, Jocasta and... good luck.”
“I don’t think Luck has anything to do with this...” she thought, favorite blade dangling from her waist. “I hope you’re not after blood, Headmistress, because things will get messy if you are.”
She left the dorm and journeyed across the main hall of the Academy under the prying eyes of all supernaturals. Outside, the rain intensified, acidic tears of forgotten Gods bringing with them omens of impending death.
Abigail Gehymnis sat with her back turned to the door when Jocasta walked in, heavy boots clanging on the floor. She was pissed of course, yet the fun was only starting.
“Took you long enough, didn’t it? Did you come alone or are there more of your warriors waiting outside the door as we speak?”
Jocasta stood in a military stance, shoulders straight, head facing forward, a silent statue.
“Cat got your tongue, Jo?”
“Are you going to continue disrespecting me by not looking at me while we talk? Because if so, we have a problem.”
Abigail rotated the chair, sly smile coming into view. Though already in her fifties, the proud woman wore a striped micro-skirt not even the youngest students enrolled dared to look at, let alone think of. The thin and long fuck me heels didn’t suit her either. She couldn’t believe this was the same woman that had once clamored for a return of the 19th Century discipline to all of Gehymnis’ activities.
“Always so dramatic...” she sniggered. “Don’t you know how to have any fun?”
“I find it hard to ‘have fun’ when I see you shame your family name, Headmistress. If your mother were still alive...”
Abigail dangled her feet on the mahogany desk. “... but she isn’t. She’s dead and buried as old croaks are meant to be. My mother was a bitch, Jo, and so was my grandmother. Both ran this Academy as if it were a private army or something, never giving the students any room to breathe. Do you believe that’s the best way to deal with things?”
“Does it matter? There’s a reason why strict rules were put in place. Protecting those like us is more important than anything else. I remember you used to say that, too.”
“Yes, you’re right. I said it and so much more but only because I had no choice. Mother wanted me to be just like her, a shell of a creature with no free will. She became what my grandmother wanted her to be and thought she could get away with the same brainwashing techniques on me. It worked to some extent for a while but ever since she’s gone, I’ve been carving my own path. I have plans for this institution and some things in it aren’t compatible with them.”
“What kind of plans? What are you talking about?”
“Take a seat and I’ll tell you.”
“I’d rather stand, Headmistress.
“That wasn’t a request, Jocasta. Sit!”
The Amazon pulled up a chair and tried to sink into it. It was too small, too cramped, yet another humiliation to add to the lot.
“Comfy?” Abigail sniggered.
“Don’t test my patience! What’s going on, Headmistress! Why are you so adamant on breaking what works? And why now?”
“Because what works is not what should work. Because the past is long gone even though it lingers in our hallways. We live in the 21st Century, Jocasta. Normals had their time to shine, and all they gave us were shadows. It’s time they fade and let the ones with real power grow.”
“Do I need to remind you you’re a ‘normal’ too or are you renouncing your own kind?”
“Oh, that’s the beauty of it all. I already did and I see things clearly now.”
“There’s someone I want to introduce you to. Well, it’s someone you’ve met before but not like this so it will be as if you’re getting to know one another all over again. Slave, you may crawl out, now.”
Derrick Evans emerged from under her desk, hands and feet wrapped in tight rubber paws, silicone butt plug up his exposed ass, a dog mask rendering most of his natural features indistinct. It wagged its imaginary tail with great satisfaction as it brushed its head against Abigail’s skirt.
“You remember Derrick, don’t you? Once a poor substitute teacher, now an obedient slave dog. I would tell him to say hi to you but he doesn’t know how to speak anymore.”
Jocasta jumped from the chair, muscular legs breaking it in two, and drew her sword. The dog cowered under its Owner’s legs.
“What have you done?”
“I made change happen and now he’s happy. What you want to know is how I did it, right?”
“No!” Abigail retorted, activating the voice modulator. “You and I still have a lot to discuss, Jo. Drop the sword. Now!”
The Amazon heard the unnatural voice, lubricious charms intensified. The Twelve had tried to seduce her and those under her command many times before, never once getting close to penetrating her mental defenses. Abigail’s tricks wouldn’t work either. She kicked the desk against the wall, pinning the surprised Headmistress as her human pup ran to the door.
“So it is true! You made a deal with those bitches!”
“More like they struck a deal with me that proved beneficial to all. I see your resolve is as strong as ever. I’m impressed.”
The blade danced in the Amazon’s dexterous fingers until it came to rest on the enhanced human’s throat.
“Did you think a small knockoff of her mind-control abilities would work on me?”
“Oh no, I know the signal is too weak for someone so strong which is why I took precautions before calling you over. Jo, a fearsome warrior you may be, but you’re also predictable. Your sense of honor betrays you, makes you blind to small things. It’s time you learn to appreciate the big picture.”
Abigail forced her right hand out of the desk’s confinement and double-clicked the modulator. It vibrated and spun on her sweaty palm as it connected to the array of speakers she had installed on the ceiling the week before. Jocasta looked up and gulped as all the black boxes came to life at the same time.
The Headmistress laughed. “I’m sure you can handle one and even all twelve but how strong are you against a frequency amplified one hundred times? Let me tell you. Not strong enough! You will break, Jocasta! You will listen and obey!”
“The hell I will!” Jocasta vociferated, white foam dripping from her flapping gums. The dulcet tones of Delandra’s voice mixed with all the others and a layer of cackling insanity pushed deep inside her brain, a brainwashing cacophony drowning her normal thought patterns. Her hands shook, thick blood erupted from the pores of her arms.
“Tell me, Jo... on a scale of one to ten, how painful is it?”
Jocasta stumbled, contorting against the desk. “MAKE IT STOP!”
“Not until you stop thinking. The Amazons have served us well but your services are no longer required. Guess who will fill your role...”
“... dare? Honey, I’m daring to turn you into a mindless servant right now and if I can do that, I can do anything. The Twelve have given me a lot. It’s only fair I return the favor. The new age of Gehymnis Academy begins today. Consider yourself lucky you get to have a seat in the front row.”
Jocasta felt as if her head was about to burst from inside out, all the underwater melodies converging in a single conflagration of sound. A warble was at the forefront, wings of agony flapping. Brooding eyes rolled, decades of training collapsing under the unstoppable crescendo.
“It will be so much better once you give in,” Abigail chirped along, her body nothing but an extension of the Atlanteans’ will. “You too can become a loving pet if you follow my lead.”
“I... will... not... succumb...” Jocasta gurgled, bile rising to her tongue.
“All slaves say the same thing right before doing the exact opposite. Derrick tried to oppose me too and look what happened to him. This is not a fight you can win but please... keep struggling! It will only make the moment of your demise even more satisfying.”
Abigail nuzzled the desk away under Jocasta’s angered gaze and stood up, panties rolling down her legs, her triumphant sex calling.
“You know, I always thought you lot were a bunch of closeted lesbians with the way you prance around the school but you never tasted a woman’s pussy, right? That’s one of the first things I’ll be changing in you and yes, the modifications will be permanent.”
Jocasta stumbled again, back falling to the ground. Shivering hands over her head, she fought against the sonic invasion as the waves of despair came crashing.
“Oh, no...” Abigail sat on her throbbing chest, tight buttocks compressing her hardened boobs to the point of no return. You need to keep listening otherwise you’ll fail this test. Don’t you want a good grade, dear? I know you do. Listen and fall deeper and you’ll get yourself an A instead of an F... ”
“… uck you!” Jocasta stuttered. Abigail grabbed her hands and pulled them apart, inner strength reduced to a mass of wobbling jelly. Behind her, Derrick the dog remained happy, ears waxed up, nothing seeping through. Even if that weren’t the case, it’s not like he had much of a brain left to reprogram.
“Still not enough? That’s okay. The volume can still go higher. Enjoy the madness, Jo.”
The modulator whirred again, the speakers responding to the adjusted frequency. The echoes grew louder, sonic ripples bouncing off her bleeding eardrums. If they were to rupture, perhaps she would still have a chance to fight back. Perhaps she could just enjoy the...
Silence. Golden, majestic, desirable, the respite she needed. Jocasta’s hands reacted to the energetic decrease, hurling fist pushing the Headmistress back. She responded with a vigorous slap, pushing the sound barrier to its limits. Sparks flew above their heads as the plastic cases enveloping the speakers melted.
Jocasta screamed, her raging voice becoming a muzzled mewl when the sonic disturbance hit its peak. Something flashed inside her mind and shattered. The world turned upside down and fell over the edges. The Amazon was slipping under the sea, the Atlanteans swimming in to claim her soul.
“Now there’s the look I want to see...” Abigail sniggered. “Defeat is the best condition, Jo. You fought for so long but now you can stop. Stop resisting the slave girl that dwells within you. You will serve. Say you will serve me.”
“Kill... you for this, Headmistress.”
“How will you do such a thing when you won’t even remember what happened? Rebirth is only one scale away.”
The music spiraled one last time inside her flailing spirit, breath frozen, last shreds of willful defiance dissolving. The Academy’s main building cried as the dominant Amazon disappeared into perpetual submission.
Three hours later, Abigail Gehymnis entered the Confinement Building where the Lustful Twelve were being held prisoners, more confident than ever. She held a small folder in one hand and the voice modulator in the other. Delandra, who had kept herself busy until that moment reading an erotic novel, laid down the book, rose to her feet and declared:
“You took long enough to come and see us, Headmistress.” All the other girls nodded in agreement.
“I know,” Abigail replied. “Apologies, but some preparations had to be made.”
Delandra’s lips curled inward, and her voice changed.
“Did it work, then?”
“Indeed,” the Headmistress said, holding the device to her throat once more. “You’ve all played your roles perfectly, ladies. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Try at least,” they all said in return.
She handed the folder to the blonde Atlantean.
“I promised you big things and I always keep my promises.”
Delandra opened it and browsed its contents. All the papers inside told a very intriguing story.
“Is this for real?” she asked, returning to the normal sound frequency.
“Yes. I just gave the order. The Amazonian Security Team is to be disbanded and you will take their mantle.”
“You expect us to police this place? Because that’s not what we do at all, Headmistress.”
“Oh no, Delandra. I expect you to have as much fun as you can. Think about it: free roam and the chance to dictate the rules of engagement. For all purposes and effects, you’ll be running Gehymnis the way you see fit. What do you think?”
The excitement was too great to be contained.
“I think I like the sound of that. We all do.”
“Splendid. We should start right away,” Abigail said, checking her watch. “I’ll be receiving a delegation of exchange students from our Eastern facilities at the main gate in less than twenty minutes. All men and ready for the taking. Will you be joining me, ladies?”
The twelve girls responded with the most luscious of smiles.
“Lead the way,” Delandra said before adding “Sister.”
In those two syllables, the true harmony of the spheres was unleashed. Abigail tingled with excitement, her mind filling up with wondrous visions of all the things they would accomplish. Before that though, a question was in order:
“I’m curious. How were you able to persuade Jocasta to go along with this?” Delandra asked.
“How do you think?”
“Are you serious? You did what none of us could do?”
“With great power come great achievements but I merely set things in motion. The rest will be up to you.”
“So you’re saying...?”
“She’s waiting for you at the dungeons underneath, her mind blank and compliant. She’s a slave now and the rest will follow soon. You can have your way with her whenever you see fit. You all can.”
“In that case, I guess I won’t be greeting those students then...” Delandra grinned. “It’s been a pleasure, Headmistress but I have work to do.”
“Wait! You can’t just leave like that.”
“Watch me... unless you plan to stand in my way.”
Abigail shook her head. Even with modified technology at her disposal, away from her office she was as vulnerable to her charms as anyone else and their alliance could end at any moment if she didn’t play her cards right. It was best to let her go for the kill right away and live to fight another day.
“You’re doing the right thing... sister,” Delandra sibilated, the irony more than clear the second time she used the word. “Who wants to come with me to show that skank the only thing she’s good for?”
One by one, the other Atlanteans stopped in their tracks, the divide between real power and those that played with it growing. Together as one, they marched across the halls of the institution they were to defile. Their lustful vengeance was about to begin.