Favourite Class

*All characters are over the age 21*

Features Canadian/British spelling

*****

This was her favourite class. She frowned slightly, as that thought clashed with the fact that she was compelled to sit in the back row of the lecture theatre. Fortunately the professor regularly dimmed the lights and used a bright powerpoint presentation - often extremely colourful and kinetic. It was a joy to watch.

She saw an older man working his way down the empty row towards her. He seemed familiar, but she wasn't sure why the sight of him was making her pulse race. She took a deep breath and opened up her notebook to a clean page.

He sat down on her left. She fought back a shiver that she didn't understand. She assumed he was another member of the Psychology department faculty, sitting in to see what content was being covered.

"Hello Cindy" he said in a soft, deep voice.

"My name isn't Cindy." She turned to look at him, smiling as she corrected his mistake.

He caught her eyes and said "CINDY SLEEP STATE".

Her eyes immediately closed and her head dropped to her chest. She would have slumped forward, but he caught her shoulders and held her close. He continued to speak softly into her ear.

She would never remember these instructions. They involved her conscious mind staying perfectly alert and taking impeccable notes, memorizing every concept that the professor was teaching. Meanwhile, her subconscious, renamed Cindy, was going to stay focussed on his voice, following every soft spoken command and allowing him to touch her in any way he wished.

A few moments later, he snapped his fingers in front of her face. She started and sat upright. She gave him a slightly embarrassed look and agreed with him when he suggested she'd just become light headed for a moment and that she shouldn't feel strange, but instead thankful for his help. She smiled warmly at him, and moved her attention to the front of the room where the professor was calling the class to order. Shortly thereafter the lights dimmed.

She started intently at the screen. The professeur continued his discussion of the nearly limitless and rarely explored capacity of the subconscious brain. The graphics that accompanied the text were soothing and exciting to her at the same time.

Her face did not react as the gentleman moved his right arm to rest around her shoulders and placed his left hand on her knee. He began to rub his thumb in little circles on the inside of her leg. She immediately obeyed his instruction to open her legs for him. She continued to studiously listen and take notes, as he worked his hand up her leg, massaging her thigh and eventually coming to rest with his fingers barely touching her naked labia.

Her face twitched. Why wasn't she wearing any underwear? That didn't seem right...

Seeing her almost-frown, he spoke reassuringly to her. He commended Cindy on how well she followed her instructions to purchase more skirts, and to wear them to this class without any panties. He repeated several times that she was a very good girl. Each time she smiled, without realizing that she was doing it.

His fingers started to move gently between her legs. They whispered and traced and encouraged her petals to open and begin to glisten. He pushed the two lips apart and teasingly ran his fingers around the perimeter of her entrance. Her training kept her upper personality oblivious to her own signs of the arousal. Her breathing became more shallow, and her face was lightly flushed. Her lips parted, but her conditioning kept the moan suppressed. Her overt attention remained on the screen and the professor's voice.

Keeping his left hand moving slowly up and down her slit, he drifted the thumb of his right hand down her cheek. She tilted her head slightly towards his hand, then straightened it again.

Moving his arms around her more intimately, he moved so that his right hand could now graze the far breast. Long fingers began to tease her areola through her blouse. He watched it come to a peak, and noticed that it's twin closer to him was imitating the reaction.

He held her tightly in his arms as he brought his fingers higher and focused on rolling and stroking her clit. Her body began to shiver and her hips vibrated with the battle between wanted to move and the whispering voice commanding her to stay still. A small noise escaped her throat and her eyes drifted closed for a moment, only to pop open again.

Her body finally won the battle as her hips started to rock against his hand, begging for more. He returned to stroking her entire labia, from clit to perineum. The scent of her juices filled the air, but no one else was sitting this far back. Her pelvic muscles clenched, trying to draw his fingers - anything - deeper inside of her to give her some relief.

He slipped two fingers in slowly. The area was well lubricated and soon his hand was pressed deep between her legs and his fingertips were massaging her sensitive inner areas.

She drew a breath in sharply and he knew that she was close to making more noise than could be easily explained. He brought his right hand to her mouth and lay a finger across her lips. She reflexively bit down on it when the next wave of passion washed through her.

He momentarily wondered how much information she was still absorbing with her brain awash with arousal and need. It was always so interesting to read her exam answers and see which areas she scored more strongly in.

He set up a steady, demanding rhythm with his fingers: Increasing the rate with which his fingers drew in and out of her, increasing the strength of the end rub on her upper interior wall, increasing his hold around her and against her mouth as her body continued to fight her programming and break free to naturally communicate her intense arousal.

Under such close scrutiny, he watched the blush darken across her skin and her eyes start to dilate milliseconds before her body clamped down around him and he felt additional liquid flow along his fingers. He kept rhythmically pressing as her body went through wave after wave after wave of release.

Finally, like a switch was shut off, she slumped in his arms, eyes closed and body limp. He gently lay her back against the chair, retrieved his handkerchief, cleaned his hand and her thighs and straightened her skirt.

He retrieved her pen that had rolled onto the floor, placed it in her hand and posed her hand on top of her notebook. He noted with amusement that the last point she had written down had been stated several moments ago. Fortunately, he made sure that nothing critical was taught during this middle section of class.

Just as the slide show was turned off and the overhead lights were brought back up, he leaned into her ear a final time to speak the phrase "WIDE AWAKE CINDY".

She came back slowly to a full awareness of her languid body and a general feeling of euphoria. She blinked at him and smiled... Then startled and straightened herself up in her seat.

She must have dropped off. How embarrassing. She stole a quick look at the man to her left, but he was intent on the professeur, and tucking something colourful back into his breast pocket.

She struggled to regain interest in the last few minutes of the lecture. Part of her mind just felt ... joyful. Wasn't that strange?

Shortly thereafter she was packing up and heading back to her apartment. The skirt she was wearing was impractical for the rest of her day - and the breeze against the wetness still between her legs caused a little chill as the air hit it... She frowned, but almost instantly her conditioning took this fact in stride.

She was so pleased with herself for ignoring all the doubters that said doing her degree in neuroengineering would be too difficult. Certainly it involved long hours of study and conditioning.. Conditioning?... but she had never been happier.