1
Leah Bardot needed Professor Maroney alone. Unfortunately, one of her fellow students was making that particularly difficult.
Brandon Hamm was far too much of a hunk to be this interested in literature. He was tall, muscular, charismatic, and had a deep voice that reverberated through the room. Leah watched him drone on with Maroney for a good five minutes. She noticed the way Maroney blushed and fidgeted with her fingers every time the boy made eye-contact. If nothing else, the conversation provided insight into how best to crack the professor.
Leah stood at the periphery of the conversation, waiting for the hunky sophomore to leave, but the moment never came. God, he seemed just as infatuated as the dorky professor. Finally, Leah took action.
"Excuse me professor, I need to speak to you.
Alone
."
"Oh, of course Leah," Professor Maroney looked crestfallen.
Brandon shrugged, gave Maroney a wistful, knowing look and walked out of the room. Leah spent the next minute mumbling about a previous assignment while she waited for Lindsay.
Lindsay Maycomb slipped into the room without a sound, creeping up behind the professor, who had her back to the door. Maroney went on and on, enjoying the sound of her own voice so much that she failed to notice the click of the door closing. Leah forced herself to ignore her partner, instead keeping her eyes focused on the ignorant professor. The trap was nearly sprung.
Something in the air shifted, and the professor faltered in her speech. Her eyes widened -- an effect magnified by her large prescription glasses, and she turned around to see Lindsay Maycomb right behind her. She let out a quick scream, collected herself, and greeted the student. Seeing the opening, Leah moved in close, taking the professor in her arms. The woman's frame was insubstantial and boney, giving Leah the sense that she could easily blow the woman across the room if she took a deep enough breath.
"Leah?" was all Professor Maroney could manage in reaction to Leah's touch.
Leah Bardot brushed a few errant strands of hair from the professor's face and then cupped her cheek. A gentle move, full of intimacy and overtures of romance. Leah pushed her annoyance with the professor out of her mind. That was a past life, soon to be irrelevant. It was time to think of Maroney as a lover.
"Professor Maroney, you've spent your entire life with your nose in books. Haven't you ever wondered about the world beyond words and pages? One you can touch?"
Leah moved closer, brushing her chest against the professor's. A soft fire erupted in the woman's cheeks. At this distance, the heat of another person flared like an aura. Professor Maroney's body heat was small and thin, just like her. As a human, Maroney was altogether unremarkable, but her flat, plain nature made her an enticing specimen for Leah and her sisters. The plainer the victim was at the start, the more remarkable her transformation seemed. Leah longed to see this flat, boring, neurotic caterpillar of a woman blossom into a deadly butterfly.
"This is vuh-vuh-very, um, inappropriate, Leah."
It was the barest shadow of a warning, devoid of venom or power. All it told Leah was that Professor Maroney was afraid -- very afraid.
Leah did not need to answer the professor. She watched as arms encircled the woman. Hands, filled with dark, lecherous purpose, explored her scrawny midsection.
Lindsay nibbled Professor Maroney's earlobe and whispered something that took the color from the woman's cheeks. A moment later, the sister's hand ignited with a fierce emerald glow. Briefly, there was a scream, quickly muffled by Leah's lips.
Professor Maroney began to shake violently. Leah squeezed her tight and held her through the ordeal. Lindsay was merciless, breaking the woman's will by turning her own nerves against her. Glowing fingers reached under Maroney's sweater and groped at the woman's trim belly and her slightly deflated, conical breasts.
For a solid minute, Lindsay Maycomb molested the poor professor, driving her sanity to the brink with raw, concentrated lust. Leah broke the kiss and signaled for Lindsay to stop. As soon as Leah let go of Maroney, the woman slumped to the floor. Her entire body shivered and shaked. Her mouth opened and closed, sucking in shallow breaths, making her look a bit like a fish that had been dragged on shore. Tears streaked from the woman's big, bespectacled eyes.
Leah gazed down at her prey, taking a moment to soak in the details. Maroney was older than she realized. Wrinkles emerged from the corners of the woman's eyes and mouth, looking like dry riverbeds in her skin. Her complexion lacked a certain luster and shine that younger women possessed and her body, while slim, carried a certain amount of flab. Leah wondered what the worm would do to a woman this old. How much would she change and in what ways? Leah wanted to know and this desire consumed her.
"What's your first name, professor?"
The professor turned to her, her glassy eyes filled with tears and terror. At first, it seemed like she had not heard the question, then after a long pause she choked out the name: Talia.
"That's prettier than I expected," Lindsay murmured.
"What do you do when you aren't teaching, Talia?" Leah asked.
"Please, don't hurt me. Let me go. I won't tell anyone about this. Not a soul."
Leah rolled her eyes in an exaggerated display of disappointment. She really had to hammer things home so the half-blind professor would get the point.
"Zap her."
A wicked grin crossed Lindsay's face. The sister unbuttoned and unzipped Professor Maroney's jeans and slipped her fingers down beneath the hem of the woman's panties. The effect was immediate. Maroney jerked and cried, contorting her limbs and arching her back as if she were possessed by a demon.
"That's enough." Leah descended on the professor, kissing her thin lips before repeating her question in a whisper.
"I, uh, read. I grade papers. I--I have a cat."
"Of course she does," Lindsay snorted.
"Is there a Mr. Maroney?"
Maroney blushed and shook her head.
"I bet you get very lonely," said Leah. "You are surrounded by all these vibrant young college kids hanging out and hooking up. Meanwhile, all you have are frozen dinners and television. It sounds miserable."
"What? No! I'm happy. I'm not too lonely."
"Don't lie to yourself. I can see it in your eyes. The envy. The despair. You can't hide it."
"That's not true!" Maroney sobbed. "I'm happy. My life is fine. It's fine!"
Leah nuzzled the professor's scrawny neck, licking and kissing and blowing on the woman's skin, eliciting an involuntary gasp. It was time to turn up the temperature.
Of course, none of this was necessary. Maroney could be infected without the added effort of breaking her, but Leah could not help herself. Although she didn't like to show it, she was just as desperate as the other sisters to infect every girl she laid eyes on. Self-restraint was beginning to wear on her.
"I saw how you looked at Brandon at the end of class. You were blushing and fidgeting and stumbling over your words. You like him, don't you?"
Maroney turned purple.
"No! He's a student. I could never, um, uh, have relations with him."
"You're lying again. You want him, I can see it."
The professor turned away as fresh tears poured from her eyes. The gesture said more than words ever could.
"He's a student. It wouldn't be appropriate," Maroney muttered. "Besides, I'm--"
"You're what?"