Chapter Three: A New Power Structure
I scythe through campus like a knife through butter, leaving a trail of enthralled victims in my way.
This isn't my style. I may not have been entirely honest with myself about the morality of mind control powers, I see it now... but I can say, hand on my heart, that I've never done anything like this. I've always selected my targets with deliberate care, and changed them in ways that I judged to be not just for my benefit, but for that of people around us... and sometimes, the victims themselves.
Now, though, I've been going on a veritable mind-controlling spree, and unorthodox as it is, it's with good reason. I have a plan to carry out, and it feels good to have direction again. The frenzied activity, all this energy coursing through me, they make the humiliation of my first man-fucking smart less than it did at first.
I feel a renewed sense of clarity and purpose. I have a plan, and the ability to execute it. I feel in control again, moving forward, determined and unstoppable. The humiliation is lessened.
Lessened, but not forgotten, I think to myself through gritted teeth. There will be hell to pay for it. I can't quite touch Kevin, not yet, but I've settled out on the plan that will become his undoing. He has left a few precious little loopholes that I fully intend to exploit.
This is one of them.
"Yes..." the middle-aged woman says, swooning in her chair, unable to take her eyes away from mine, which are aflame with the awesome might of my powers. She's miss Garland, an admin worker for the university, a self-assured, experienced woman who's comfortable with bureaucracy, and with the haplessness of many students.
But not now. Now, she's as harmless as a kitten, firmly under my thumb. I suppress a soft sigh, my thighs rubbing discreetly together as I do my best to suppress my arousal. My sweaty hands grip the armsrests of the chair -- damn it. Kevin's most recent command, the constant low-level horniness, is really messing with me.
For a second, I almost consider giving in to the temptation. I could grab the woman's head, pull it between my thighs, and show her who's the real boss here. She may be twenty years my senior, but there's no arguing where we each stand on the social ladder: I could break her within minutes if I wanted to.
I could make her my sapphic thrall, my little lezzie slut. Drive home the humiliation of being brought to heel by a much younger girl, a student to boot, with my sole digging deeper and deeper into her neck...
But no, I force myself back into composure. That's not what I'm here for. All the people I've been hypnotising for the past 24 hours have nothing to do with sex... or with the usual, correctional purposes behind my interventions.
Not this time.
"Here are my instructions for you," I tell her, in the strictest voice I can muster. "You will get in touch with a particular student, lamenting a certain bureaucratic issue with his enrolment...."
The admin worker absorbs my plan passively, like a sponge. I detail the full extent of my instructions, leaving nothing to chance. She is to call Kevin as often as she can get away with, making up bureaucratic issues that in fact do not exist.
She's only a part of a much larger puzzle. Kevin is about to find himself sought-after by half the university, with more or less apparently legitimate reasons. He's going to be a very busy boy.
My instructions relayed, I add my failsafe to seal this most recent entry in my recent serial recruitment. "You will protect me," I say, feeling for all the world like a queen talking to a leal knight... or perhaps, an abject servant. "If you see Kevin try to put me in front of a reflective surface, or mention anything about hypnosis to me, you will do everything in your power to interfere. Tackle him to the ground, start the fire alarm, I don't care -- so long as you stop him."
The last instruction has my fingers twitching. I bite my lip, straining against the conditioning. I realise this comes dangerously close to violating Kevin's rules for me. Yes, I have to recognise his authority (grr!), and I have to hypnotise myself at his command... but he said nothing about getting other people involved.
It's a tiny, marginal loophole, but for the time being, it's enough. It will have to be. What I need more than anything else is time. If Kevin just gets the opportunity to pile more and more commands onto my psyche, I'll never break out. But the longer I can stall him, the longer I can work on the other loophole he's conveniently left open...
My job done, I head back to my wing of the dorm, my head swirling with thoughts, plans, lists. My phone vibrates on the way, and I find myself confronted with a text message from Kevin, which makes me smile ear to ear.
Just as I planned -- he's cancelling for tonight, reminding me to be a good girl in the meantime, of course. He doesn't specify the reason behind it, but I of course already know -- I'm behind it. I chose a random girl in class, Julia, as bait -- she's invited him over to "help her study", while hinting that she's going to be willing to... remunerate him.
God, I'll have to find a way to apologise to her when this is all said and done. Even so, it's yet one more obstacle between Kevin and our next session.
He will, of course, be invited to the football game by the most popular jocks in class tomorrow. Then there's the administration. His former friend Tyler will inexplicably want to reconnect, driving all the way here and offering to pay for dinner in exchange for catching up. And there's more, so much more.
I'm nearly squealing with glee by the time I pass the threshold into my room. My phone tucked away, I ready myself for the next stage of my plan -- the hows and whens of it already running across my mind as I try to come up with as compressed a programme as possible.
But the Squad snaps me out of my reverie.
"Welcome home, your Majesty," Sarah says, curtsying to perfection, like I personally programmed her to. The curtsy slowly morphs into a full prostration before me, my former arch-bully getting down on hands and knees. Her station, I know, ready to act as a footstool, should I wish to sit in my armchair.
Behind her is Emily, simpering and bowing in her maid uniform, duster in hand. "May I fix you a drink, your Majesty?" She asks me, in a breathless pout.
And that's when Juliet approaches me from the opposite side, swaying seductively towards me, pressing her body against mine. My personal sex pet, my pleasure partner, my lesbian gratification machine, available on command...
"Please, your Majesty," she whispers, nibbling gently at my earlobe. "Let me... it's been so long..."
I gulp, and I find myself balking. The girls sound pathetically eager, and no wonder, I haven't... partaken in our activities ever since Kevin first put me in his thrall. In my absence, my three former bullies have been left to their own devices.
I've given them normal, healthy lives, so it's not like they idle around, waiting for instructions. They study diligently, have friends, hobbies. But their need for me is pulsing and addictive, and every sigh and movement they make seems designed to trigger my hunger, my queenly desires.
