As her first full year of med school began to draw to its close, Cynthia May looked back on everything she'd managed to accomplish.
Not simply academically- although she was doing rather well on that front, being at the top of most of her classes and getting tons of praise as well, but rather her ever-growing stable of submissive little Trinkets. Mistress Syn had been extremely busy.
Two more professors.
A half-dozen of her fellow students.
Even one of the lab techs.
But that still wasn't enough to satiate her. Mistress Syn wanted more.
Now it wasn't as if those ones hadn't been lots of fun to play with- and still were, all things considered. Nor had any of them been lacking in their continued devotion and servitude. Her tuition was more than paid up for the remainder of her studies, and she'd barely needed to dip into her personal funds for anything at all.
And that wasn't even accounting for the countless other ways they paid for the privilege of serving her.
Yet as good as it felt to tease, torment, and dominate countless men and women around campus, Mistress Syn couldn't quite shake the lingering feeling that she could be doing more. That something was missing from her collection. Something even better than all of this.
She wasn't quite sure when the idea had finally popped into her head, but once it had, it outright refused to leave. Mistress Syn had been lounging around her dorm looking over her class notes whilst being waited on hand and foot by a pathetic little creep from one of her lectures. He'd made the poor life choice of trying and failing to 'impress' her with an unsolicited dick pic, only to now find himself naked, caged and licking her boots after she'd threatened to send it to all his friends and family.
Somehow, sitting there lazily watching him clean the dirt and filth from the bottom of her boots while she studied and smoked, the idea finally made itself known. Perhaps it had always been there- having taken root after she'd proven that she could more or less enslave anyone she pleased regardless of their status.
Yet even then it had remained hidden, deep in the confines of her wicked mind, waiting for the right time to spring forth. And once it did, Mistress Syn knew precisely what she had to do.
Fuck it. She'd come this far. There really was only one fish left to catch in this particular pond. The biggest one around.
The Dean.
Now Mistress Syn had never actually met the school's Dean, but she was familiar with him. Dean Winslow was an older man- circling his fifties if not already firmly ensconced in them, with slightly greying hair and a quiet, subdued demeanor. He'd spoken at great length to her and the other new students at the start of their first semester, and once or twice she'd spotted him around campus chatting with various professors about one thing or another.
However, unlike everyone else she'd managed to lure into her web, she'd had no real personal interaction with him. That had to change.
And she knew just how to do it.
First, she'd have to get his attention. Luckily for her, she had plenty of ways to do such a thing. Including one who was currently licking up a fresh mouthful of dirt and dust off of her boot.
Gazing down at him with a wicked smirk, she blew smoke at him to get his attention. The little shit- a far cry from the wannabe player who'd sent her that picture of his pathetic manhood, looked at her like a well-trained puppy, and she tried not to laugh at the sight of him.
"Sorry, Trinket. Looks like some of the pictures I took of you will be leaving my phone after all.."
Her sub- a skinny little redhead who clearly regretted the foolish actions which had gotten him into this situation but knew it was too late to escape, could only stare at her with terrified eyes. Mistress Syn simply smiled. "Don't worry. You'll be in good company when I'm finished..."
It took a little work- she'd had to create an anonymous account for this plan to work, but once that was taken care of, it was simply a matter of posting several of the pictures she'd accumulated over the course of the last several months.
Cruel as she could be- and she most certainly could be, Mistress Syn wasn't stupid. If she wanted to retain the subs in the pictures she'd leaked, she had to make sure that they, like her, would be seen as the victims in this situation. Nothing too extreme or humiliating was released- simply a few naughty pictures of them and her engaging in some fun activities.
Well, fun for her at least.
After all, in each and every one of them, it was clear to anyone who dared to look closer that she was in control of every situation. Just as she intended to be of what would hopefully come next.
Less than forty-eight hours later, the campus was in an uproar.
Just as she'd expected, the narrative, as it played out, was that someone had hacked a student's private files and released some dirty pictures. People all throughout the school were both appalled and intrigued, especially as they began to realize they recognized the subjects of the pictures.
Especially Cynthia.
She noted the shocked glances of her peers in class, took their words of comfort as well as their criticisms in stride, and happily played the role of the innocent, 'embarrassed' victim, though she made sure to wink whenever she noticed some of her Trinkets go red when their roles were pointed out. Honestly, that made it all the more worthwhile- their humiliation, minor as it was compared to what else she could have leaked, was so much fun.
Regardless, this was only phase one.
Alas, the second part of her plan took a little longer than she'd hoped.
Over a week passed before things began to fall into place, but once they did, Mistress Syn knew what to do. Just as she'd expected, she awoke one morning to an important email from Dean Winslow, asking to meet with her to discuss the "horrible" situation.
