πŸ“š dear-teacher Part 1 of 1
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MIND CONTROL

Dear Teacher 1

Dear Teacher 1

by iamcontrol
19 min read
4.62 (12500 views)
adultfiction

Author's Note: All parties depicted are over 18, and the scenes within this story take place in a university/college environment.

'Hey Mr. Carpe, sorry to bug you like this, but I wanted to ask you about the--'

Lucille was tucking a strand of her recently-dyed blonde hair over her ear as she spoke, which was why she didn't notice it right away. It was only as she took a step into the classroom in which she had been learning along with the rest of her classmates only ten minutes earlier that she looked up from her phone, tapping the send key on her text message, and saw it.

'Oh my god. Oh, my,

fucking,

god!' Lucille exclaimed. She stood in the doorway, frozen in space for a second, caught like a deer in the headlights. It was a little like a train wreck; too terrible to see, yet impossible to look away. As such, she had plenty of time to take it all in.

Carpe, trousers around his ankles. Reclined on the wall, whiteboard shelf supporting his bare backside. Exposed,

erect

penis out, and disappearing repeatedly into the mouth of... Holy shit. Zara

fucking

Maisie. And Zara - Zara was on her knees, skirt around her waist, legs spread, one hand disappearing between them while the other cupped his balls, fondling them as she sucked, apparently willingly deep-throating her teacher. She didn't turn her head as she bobbed, a soft 'gluck gluck' sound emanating from where his erection penetrated her throat.

But he did.

Lucille was already half-way up the hallway when she heard his call, and for a fleeting instant, she faltered, her rushing legs stumbling. Then, momentum carried her onwards, and she resumed her mad rush, her shoes pumping as she ran to the front desk in the other building across the way, books clutched desperately to her left breast, phone clamped tightly in her right.

Back in the classroom, John Carpe let his head bump the whiteboard as the young university student ran, not bothering to halt the oral sex he was receiving. Indeed, he stroked the kneeling woman's hair, gently urging her on as Lucille's footsteps echoed away.

'There's a good girl, keep going. Faster, faster now... Very good. Every thrust making you wetter, every inch making you more obedient. You're almost there, my pet, just a few more and you can finish with-with me-oh,

oh fuck!'

Carpe stiffened, his hand hardening on the kneeling girl's head, driving it home as her rubbing tongue and suctioning lips brought the ejaculation out of him. He stiffened, tightened, groaned, and felt the first wonderful load rush along his length, disappearing into the mouth clamped around him, never to be seen again. At the exact same time, the woman began to shake, her breasts jouncing as she mirrored his orgasm. A few short, high-pitched squirts emanated from the space beneath her skirt, along with a wet dripping sound and a lot of rapid

schlick schlick schlick

noises - the sound of her squirting past her vibrating hand, which rubbed and finger-fucked the feminine ejaculate out of her in time with her male counterpart.

Lucille ran, panting, into the front office, finding the usual person attending to the desk; the university's general coordinator, a black-haired, late-thirties woman named Rosanna. Rosanna smiled as Lucille entered, the smile quickly turning into a look of concern as she saw Lucille's face.

'Holy shit, quick,' Lucille said in a rush, 'you've got to come, Mr. Carpe is having sex with a student!'

Six minutes later, Rosanna and Lucille strode into the classroom Lucille had said it was happening in, finding it occupied by one person - John Carpe. He smiled as the pair came in, leaning back in his chair.

'Ah, Lucille, Rosanna, great to see you both.'

'Shut it, dick-stain,' Lucille said, fury boiling over. 'I know what you made Zara do, and I know it's probably to get better grades, and Rosanna and I aren't going to let you get away with it.'

Rosanna held up her hand, unsuccessfully stemming the outburst until that point, when the angry and adrenaline-pumped Lucille finally noticed it. More calmly, Rosanna interlaced her fingertips in her lap, her professional black pencil skirt and smart low heels complimenting her professionalism.

The words, however, that came out of her mouth, belied that strong, professional female archetype.

'Master Carpe, how can I serve you?'

Lucille actually took a few seconds to digest what Rosanna had said. When, at last, she did, she recoiled from the woman. 'What the

fuck?'

she exclaimed.

Carpe, for his part, was as unperturbed as he had been when Lucille had first caught him. 'Rosanna, wonderful of you to join me. Please, if you would assume tabletop.'

To Lucille's incredulity, she watched as the responsible, head-strong Rosanna calmly strode towards the nearest student table, hiking her skirt up her thighs as she walked, before she positioned her backside on the edge of the table and effortlessly tipped herself onto it, allowing the edge of the table to part her legs, revealing a pair of maroon-red panties underneath. As Rosanna exposed herself, Carpe pushed his chair back, revealing that he had not in fact been alone; with a soft wet smack, his half-erect manhood slipped from the lips of Zara, who was kneeling underneath his desk. Gesturing, she emerged, licking her lips.

'Good. Rosanna, panties off. Zara, be a sexy little darling and eat Rosanna out until she ejaculates, please.'

As if it were the most normal thing in the world, the youthful university student shifted to the space between Rosanna's spreading legs, and, as Rosanna shuffled her panties away from her flesh, she leaned in, helping the red fabric as it went, searching tongue seeking and finding the older woman's sensitive flesh.

'What the

fuck.

' Lucille said again, staring in horror. Her eyes shifted, taking in the man who now approached her, cock still hanging freely before himself, his semi-hard manhood gently swaying.

'Relax, my dear Lucille. You can ask for anyone in this school you like, but I assure you, no one is going to help you do anything but

obey my orders

.'

'Fuck,

you,

you rapey, creepy mother

fucker,

' Lucille said, pointing at the half-naked man. She glanced downwards, seeing the pendulous appendage. 'Fuck

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of you!' She turned to run, to fetch the principle if she could. One word stopped her.

'Lucille.'

There was an obvious grin in his voice as Carpe spoke to Lucille's backside. 'What's the use, little lady? You're already mine. Just give in, you know you want to. Running is so hard, but submitting to my cock is so

very

easy... Just relax and obey. Turn around and kneel for me, girl.'

Lucille felt a strange, almost magnetic pull filling her. Something inexplicable was drawing her towards her teacher, something that seemed to centre itself on the cock hanging from his body. Her mind screamed, her heart racing faster than if she'd just run a triathlon. A shudder of something she desperately didn't want to acknowledge rippled through her, ending with a hatefully blissful electricity between her legs. For a moment, Lucille wanted, more than anything, to turn, to gaze at his cock, and to fall to her knees before it, where she could obey freely, do as she was told, let him control her mind as he did her body, use her as he saw fit like the mindless toy she--

Lucille snapped. A second later, she was outside. Tears streaked as she ran, blindly fleeing the classroom. She didn't know how, why, or where she was going; all she knew was to run, a wholly instinctual act of utter animalistic flight.

Back in the classroom, John Carpe shrugged. Some were harder to break than others, and, unlike the two women currently interlocked in oral-vaginal coitus behind him, Lucille had only attended classes since the middle of the year, instead taking hers at another school. The attractive twenty-something had only moved here after her parents had shifted states, bringing the single and otherwise broke daughter along with them. As such, Lucille had only been exposed to a small portion of the subliminal implantations he'd given to all his other classes, his colleagues, and even the school board. Someone like Zara, whom he'd known since last year, when she'd joined straight out of her regular schooling, had been indoctrinated for a long time, and had first obeyed a direct command from John back when she was freshly nineteen. Now, a few weeks before her twenty-first birthday, she was as dominated by him as the much older, much longer-exposed Rosanna was. The older woman, whom Carpe had begun working with six years ago, had been his subservient slut for more than five of those, and had cheated on her husband--both of them--with him more times than he could count. He wondered idly if, at this point,

they

were cheating on

him

-

if

they ever had sex.

Sighing, Carpe glanced at the two women, then picked up his pants from the back of his chair and lazily began to tie them up.

He'd need to pay a visit to the principle.

Lucille ran until she found herself at the tennis courts, where she finally stopped, allowing herself to fall to her knees, where she cried. Strained by something she didn't understand, Lucille forced her addled, weak mind to regather, and, after a minute or so, she stood, brushed herself off, and resumed her speed - this time to the central offices.

A few minutes later, Lucille burst into the office block, punched the elevator, and was two floors up before her heart caught up. Aware this time that her hysterics wouldn't help, she paused to regather herself, straightened her trousers, tucked her hair, and knocked.

'Come in.'

Thank god

the principle was in. Though not like a normal high school, this university had a sub-section across the road for primary and secondary school attendance, and so to keep things simple, it labelled its directorship 'principle' even though this office was better titled 'managing director'. Lucille couldn't care if she was the chief knitting instructor, first-class in that moment; she knew the woman was her highest possible escalation point and knew she needed her help.

'Ah, Lucy Beverly, is it?' the middle-aged woman said, her greying brown hair up in a tidy top bun. At forty-six, the woman looked good for her age, keeping fit and healthy, though nature's signs were unavoidable nonetheless.

'Hi, Ms. Sommerstone, I'm sorry to disturb you like this, but I have to speak to you--' Lucille said, entering. She was about to continue when something made her pause.

'...Hold on, how did you know my name?' Lucille was sure that the principle was good with her student's names, but there were hundreds, possibly thousands of people attending university education here, and there was almost no chance she knew who one single woman was.

The door swung shut behind Lucille, and she spun--to see John Carpe sitting casually beside the door, one foot returning to where it had been crossed, having just pushed the door smoothly shut.

'Hello, Lucille.' John Carpe said, smiling.

'Ms.,

he's

why I'm here! He's been having sex with--' Lucille started, spinning.

'Oh, don't bother speaking to her, young lady, Ms. Sommerstone is as much under my spell as you soon will be.' He said. As if to illustrate, he clicked his fingers. 'Darling, drop your top for us.'

As casually as handing her a pencil, the school's managing director, the well-respected Janet Sommerstone, reached up, popped two buttons on her smart little blouse, and shrugged it down, revealing a generous and well-filled nude-coloured bra. 'Tits

out,

sugar.' At command, the woman reached into each cup and lifted her breasts free, letting them rest atop the now empty cups. She had thick, dark areolas, and her right nipple was pierced with a cupid-themed 'arrow and loveheart' percing, the shaft of the arrow forming the piercing, the nipple encircled by the heart emblem.

Lucille turned to face the man in the corner, a huge, silent stone sinking through her body as she realised what the principle's actions meant for her. As if to secure that thought in her mind, John Carpe stood, casually reached for his belt-less pants, and allowed them to fall.

He wasn't wearing underwear, and so his manhood was revealed right away. He was flaccid, but as they spoke, he began to harden, slowly thickening and rising to point straight up at Lucille, as if it were indicating it's next target.

'I told you, my dear, it's too late for you. You're already under my control, you're just not quite free from the shackles of

freedom

yet... But we'll change that today, I think.'

Lucille backed away, her eyes fixated on the hardening cock. 'Don't you fucking dare, you... You...'

'What, Lucille? What am I? A rapist? An abuser? A womaniser? I admit, I do have a fondness for the female body and it's...

Abilities,

but I'm far from any of those. You see, it's very simple;

none

of my targets

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anything else. Zara, Rosanna, Janet there - they all willingly and welcomingly obey me. Sure, they obey by my design, but obedience is just another word for guiding you through making choices. If any of my women ever wish not to have sex with me, I don't force them to. If they ever decide they want to leave, they can. Hell, any woman under my control is welcome to bite my end off and run a knife through me if they so wish...

But none of them do.

'

'Because you

made

them,' Lucille said, reaching Janet Sommerstone's desk. Her eyes still stared at the now nearly fully erect manhood, fixated.

'No, because I

guided

them. And I can guide you, too, Lucy.' He smiled. 'I can call you Lucy?'

He said it like a question, but it was so casual and instructional that Lucille didn't consciously recognise it. By the time she did, she'd nodded two or three times. She quickly caught herself. John didn't miss it; he'd intentionally slipped the order in, and now he drove home the point. 'See? You're already obeying my orders, Lucy. Sex is just another nickname; once you accept that you're mine to command, everything else becomes so much easier. Doesn't it, Janet?'

'Yes, Master Carpe.' Ms. Sommerstone said from behind her desk. Lucille turned, watched the compliant woman speak with her exposed tits on full display, and turned back.

Deep, deep inside Lucille, something tugged at her mind, something that wanted her to accept what John was saying. He hadn't lied, the voice said - nothing she had seen all afternoon had indicated anything other than willing obedience from everyone. And how bad could it be? After all, she'd felt good when she'd allowed Him to change her nickname - how bad could one more order be? He was right; being controlled was just letting someone else pick the options for you.

Lucille shook her head, doggedly trying to refuse the invading voice. 'No!' she shouted, but even that objection lacked conviction. John Carpe actually laughed, his penis wobbling as he did so.

'Now that's a half-hearted attempt if ever I heard one. Come on, Lucy - do us both a favour and let it go. It'll be so much easier when you do. Here, I'll give you a nice, easy command to start with, one you've already been following so well since you first saw it: Lucy,

don't take your eyes off my penis

.'

Lucille's natural instinct was instantly to look, and simultaneously, to look away - although, scarily, the part that wanted her to avert her eyes was notably weaker than the part that wanted her to stare. She blinked, trying to twist her head, managing to turn it only as far as her eyes could remain pinned to the swaying cock before her. She screwed her eyes shut, only to find them magnetised again the second she opened them.

Nooo...

a tiny part of her mind protested as she realised what her failure to disobey truly meant, even as a much, much stronger part of herself thrilled with energy.

'That's it, good girl. How easy is that? Obedience is like second nature to you.' Carpe said, approaching slowly. 'Now, let's work on making it

first

nature.'

Heart pounding, lungs burning, body almost exploding with mixed energies, Lucille fought in vain to retreat as Carpe approached her, her gaze following the erection as it neared her, until it stood a foot away from her body.

'Lucy, I'd like you to unbutton your shirt.'

Lucille valiantly managed to shake her head, notably without shifting her eyes. Her hands rose nervously, as if they wanted to obey, but she managed only to finger her lowest button, fidgeting with it. Carpe seemed unphased.

'Lucy, obey me and unbutton your shirt.'

This time, the damned button slipped through its counterpart before Lucille could resist it.

'Good girl. Next button.'

A violent thrill buzzed in Lucille's spine at the words "good girl". The next button was undone before she recovered from the sensation.

'Good girl. Next.'

Another shudder, another button. Shit was getting out of fucking hand.

'Good girl. Next.'

Fuck, another button - the buzz didn't die away this time, not as quickly. It was still there when he--

'Good girl. Next button.'

Another order, another button, another shudder. They were so strong, it was hard to think past all the pleasure - and

pleasure it was

.

Good slave. Last button.'

The button slipped through the hole, and something deep inside Lucille split like her shirt. The words still reverberated around her mind as the shirt parted, revealing the centre of her bra.

He hadn't said her name, he had said...

'Good girl, Lucy. See, that wasn't so hard, was it? You're starting to understand how obedience feels now.' John said, smiling. He reached forward, gently taking the two separated halves of Lucille's shirt and shifting them apart, revealing her breasts. Carpe smiled. 'You're certainly well endowed, young lady. You should show these off more, rather than keep them to yourself all day!' His left hand slipped from the fabric of her shirt, and a second later, his thumb gently brushed the spot where Lucille's nipple resided. His fingertips softly depressed the fabric, tenderly sampling her firmness, letting the lack of sensation provide the stimulus. His right hand shifted, but it went to her chin, tilting her head upwards until her eyes broke from his penis, where they promptly found his eyes.

'You're mine, Lucy. You're already utterly enslaved. If you weren't, you'd have slapped my hands away and punched my exposed, erect cock... But you haven't. You're waiting for your next order... Like a good... Obedient... Enslaved...

Pet

.' He breathed, his voice deafening despite speaking in barely more than a whisper. His fingers dug a little harder into Lucille's bosom, shifting as he cupped her tit, hardening with every word to emphasise it. It felt good, she thought despite herself - even if she weren't in her current predicament, she'd always loved her tits massaged, and it had been too long since she'd shared intimacy with someone, having left her last partner in a poorly-ended relationship in a previous state of the country months ago. Lucille's lips parted slightly and a soft gust of air left her, the quietest of sighs. Carpe grinned evilly, knowing what his touch was doing to her.

'I'm going to test your obedience, Lucy,' Carpe said softly. 'And when you've proven you're mine, you're going to cum at my command, while I fuck that tight little cunt of yours and make you scream your servitude into Janet's sopping pussy.'

Degrading though it may have been, Lucille's spine thrummed at his words, and something between her legs responded with eagerness. As Lucy stared into John's eyes, shaking gently as her resolve struggled against an ever-growing tide, a single tear slipped from her eye, rolling down her cheek, only for Carpe to brush it away with his thumb.

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