Hall P A S S Pt 05

Chapter 5 - Becky

Once again we return to follow the adventures of William, as he abuses the HALL Pass to have his way with women.

All characters in this work of fiction are 18+ years old, and any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is entirely in your head.

***

I had been keeping a low profile for a few days as I settled into my work for Professor Hall.

She probably still had her eagle eye on me, so I dare not bring any part of the actual device with me, which felt odd. I was used to having that power available to me more or less all the time now.

Instead I made sure to bring the beat up old phone I had bought from Marc along with me, even going so far as to get some earbuds that looked a little similar to the ones I used for the actual device, just to give me a shred of cover, in case Professor Hall somehow spotted me with the real devices at some point.

Having to bring books with me about Tesla, and actually pretend to study them seriously, whenever there was a lul in the work I did for Hall, was more of a chore than the actual work.

Still, I did have to keep up appearances, and with Hall scoffing at my choice of literature, I knew it was deflecting her suspicions enough that it was worth continuing it.

The work itself was pretty boring.

Instead of doing anything relating to my engineering skills, Hall had me do the most mind numbing aspects of screening potential candidates for the first trial sessions. I took it as a sign that she was not yet ready to trust me.

Ironically, the worst part of it was that it gave me a lot of access to the personal data of the people who had signed up for the trials. Not just medical data, but names, addresses, photo's.

This meant I suddenly knew a lot about a bunch of hot young college girls, and I found my focus slipping, as my mind wandered to what I could get up to with them, thanks to my device.

Perhaps I should go see them, for a more personal screening process, or I could wait for the experiments, where they would be put to sleep by Professor Hall's new sleep inducer, and then add my own little twist on top of it, using my device to have a little dream session with them.

I was rather certain that Professor Hall was not going to be staying all night long, just to check that her test subjects had a good night's sleep, so unless she suddenly got a larger budget for more staff, that meant I was the one going to watch them.

Even as I thought it, I knew it was going to be too risky to use the device right under the nose of the Professor, and that it was just my cock giving me bad advice.

I needed to get my head back on straight, and that meant getting my rocks off, before I got horny enough to be careless.

Perhaps another visit to Jenna was in order.

At lunch, I managed to accidentally on purpose run into Jenna, thanks to knowing from my little spyware on her phone, that she was planning to meet up with Becky.

I waved a greeting at them, as they glanced over recognizing me, as I sat at the next table over.

Pretending to read while I ate my lunch, I was instead checking them out, Jenna in particular, to whet my appetite for later.

She was in her usual baggy clothes, but I was starting to actually like it, knowing what was underneath, and knowing hardly anyone guessed she was such a hottie.

Becky was as goth as ever, wearing nothing but black on her pale skin. A pair of black jeans with a number of holes showing off black fishnets underneath, making a nice contrast with her pale skin. Above it, was a corset looking thing with a lot of laces making it look very complicated to put on, and finally a tight leather jacket. A few silver piercings and jewelry, plus her black makeup finished her look.

All together, it made her give off a vibe like she was Morticia Adams moonlighting as a hitman.

I usually did not pay a lot of attention to her, as I was a lot more interested in Jenna, and the great body I knew she hid beneath her tomboy clothing and mannerisms.

But today Becky seemed a lot more animated than usual, both the girls laughing about something.

My curiosity was certainly piqued, so throwing a look of disgust at someone nearby that were being vaguely noisy, I moved a bit closer to Jenna and Becky, as if to get further away from the disturbance, but hoping to maybe drop a few eves.

I noticed the girls shooting me a glance, and perhaps from Jenna it was more than just a glance, but when I went back to nibbling at the scraps of my meal, while pretending to read one of my books on the mysteries of Tesla, they went back to their conversation.

Sadly, from the way the tone of their conversation had changed, I guessed they realized I might be within earshot.

But at least when Becky leaned in to tell Jenna something, I managed to pick up at least some of it.

"...Send you pictures of it, when I get home."

It did not really tell me much, but since I was still monitoring Jenna's phone, I would be able to see what it was all about when Jenna got the pictures of whatever it was.

I mostly forgot about it, until late afternoon, when I was walking back home. Sadly, carrying only this old piece of trash phone, and not my usual one, I was not able to get instant gratification and just download any updates from my spyware on Jenna's phone.

The moment I got home, I got my phone to start the download, and hit the shower while it slowly got to work.

I had choked it down to a trickle of data, so as to not slow down her phone to any noticeable degree, as I did not want her to bring it to a shop to have it looked at, so I would just have to be patient.

Still stung a bit by Emily the Purity Ring girl's remarks about my hygiene, I made sure to not only get a nice shower, but also put in some effort at getting a nice shave, and put on some fresh clothes. Anyone who saw me, might think I was going on a date.

Well, I guess I was, in a way.

When I was done getting cleaned up, the phone was still downloading data, so I went about checking the device and all my related equipment, making sure every battery was topped off.

Finally, my patience paid off, and the file transfer was complete, extracting them taking only moments, and I was able to satisfy my curiosity somewhat.

There were a number of new text messages, several pictures received, as well as new pictures taken by Jenna herself.

Going through the last ones first, I was rewarded by Jenna modeling in her underwear in front of the bathroom mirror.

As usual, I felt disbelief at how hot a body she had, considering how successfully she managed to hide it in her day to day outfits of baggy pants and oversized hoodies.

Maybe I should try to get her to put on a bit of a underwear show for me when I went to see her tonight. With a bit of creativity, I might be able to lead her in that direction when her mind got put in the device induced dream state.

Next I started going through the pictures Jenna had received. Most of it was boring, trivial stuff. Pictures of cute kittens, notes from some chemistry class, screen captures from some guild mate of hers, wanting to brag about a rare drop.

But then there were a few late additions, sent by Becky.

It was half a dozen black ropes, a peculiar object I first took as some sort of dog collar, but then realized was a ring gag, and finally, a couple of books. A beginners guide to Shibari, and another on Erotic Bondage.

The accompanying text was rather informative.

'Finally got the ropes and a few other items. I figured if it is so hard to find a guy able and willing to do some rope play, I might as well practice on my own, so I can teach them myself, if I have to.'

Then a reply from Jenna.

'WOW, now you almost got me wondering about ropes and bondage too. So are the books understandable, or is it too technical?'

'The books are very helpful, full of high quality pictures. I already learned a few knots.'

Attached to that, was a picture of Becky's moonlight pale legs, tied together by the black ropes with a number of fancy looking knots and weaves.

'Okay that does look HOT. I am tempted to let you practice on my sometime. So what is up with the collar you put in the picture, I know you have a lot of collars already, so it it some special Shibari collar?'

'It is not a collar. It is a gag.'

Attached to that, was a picture of Becky, ring gag wedged in her mouth, holding her mouth open in the most inviting way, the pink of her tongue a nice contrast to her black lips.

'Oh. It does look kind a hot, but isn't that going to just give some guy the idea that he can just pound your face without restraint, without you being able to do anything about it?'

'I sure hope so. I hate it when they are insecure and ask permission for everything. What does a girl have to do around her, to just get tied down and used for an hour or two?"

'Haha yeah. Maybe go to a frat party and accept drinks from strangers?'

'Ah no, most of those guys are idiots, they would not know how to tie me down, plus I am not really into the whole doing mystery drugs thing. So as much as I love the idea of being used by a stranger, I would rather not wake up poisoned in the ER.'

'Fair enough. Well, it's a large college, surely there is someone somewhere who would just love to tie you up.'

They kept chatting, but no further pictures seemed to manifest, so I lost interest.

Or rather, my interest was most certainly piqued by Becky's kink. The idea of watching not only her very nice legs, but all of her, tied down, wearing nothing other than ropes. Perhaps with the addition of that ring gag of hers.

Yeah, the way it got my juices going, it was clear I was going to have to postpone my date with Jenna.

I sent her a mental apology, I was not out to replace her or anything, but I am sure she would understand. Becky was clearly in need of my services, and it would be unkind of me to not provide them.

Having no idea how to tie anything other than the most basic knots, I downloaded a few manuals and a couple of videos full of helpful instructions for beginners.

While I did not have any real ropes to practice with, I unraveled my old paracord bracelet, giving me something to work with, and for a few hours, I put in the effort to learn enough to not be a complete disappointment when I paid a visit to Becky.

While I only had a vague idea of where Becky lived, Jenna fortunately had the habit of filling the contact card completely, if at all possible. Not only did I learn that Becky's real name was Rebecca, but also her home address.

Personally I preferred Becky over Rebecca. It suited her.

Looking up the address, it was only about ten minutes walk from my dorm. It was an older brownstone building, donated by some long dead alumni. Mixed gender occupants, much like the Maxwell housing I lived in.

It was right across from a frat house, so I could easily understand where Becky got her dim view of their members from.

I had briefly considered joining a fraternity, but rather than it being like Skull and Bones, it was clearly an association of drunks and morons, so I dropped that idea real quick.

As it started to get late in the evening, I gathered up the items I knew or suspected I might need, before taking another shower in an effort to rid myself of some of my nervous energy.

It was eleven o'clock before I set out for Becky's place. Her being goth and loving moonlight far more than the light of day, I had no expectation of her going to bed early, but it would be for the best if I was not spotted entering. Otherwise it might give rise to questions that Becky could not answer.

With Professor Hall paranoid about the device, I would rather not have strange rumors reach her ears.

Making my way through campus late at night was a mostly peaceful experience.

As always, there were a few drunks or die hard party goers out and about. For those wealthy enough to not care about scholarships, it would seem their main ambition for college was to get drunk and get laid.

I would scoff at their lack of ambition, if not for the fact that I was on my way to get laid myself. Rather I scoffed at their crude techniques. Getting drunk and yelling at women to come give them some, did not seem like a winning strategy to me.

As I got near to the brownstone, I became aware of a party going on. Not from the brownstone, but the frat house on the other side of the street.

There was loud music pouring out of open windows, as well as drunk people arguing loudly outside.

Doing my best to avoid notice, I skulked by, pointedly looking away from the spectacle, not making eye contact with anyone.

The entrance to the brownstone was a large wooden door, green paint flaking, tiny windows letting me peer into the hall where mailboxes crowded one wall.

The door had the usual buzzer next to it, as well as the electronic key system that was so ubiquitous on campus.

Sadly, I did not yet have a key saved for the door, so I was going to have to let my phone hack it, while I just stood there in plain sight of the frat party.

Not sure if it would even do much at that distance, I nonetheless reached into my backpack, and fired up the device on the stealth setting.

While it would not prevent those across the street from noticing me, it would ensure that anyone who got interested enough to come take a closer look, would lose interest once they got close enough for the device to pour static through their mind.

It took a couple of minutes before the phone and the door each beeped, letting me know the door was open.

Drawing a sigh of relief, I stopped pretending to be looking for something in my backpack, and hurried inside.

A quick glance over my shoulder assured me that no one had wandered close enough to be caught in the effect of the device, so I shut the door behind me, and focused on locating Becky on the mailboxes.

Rebecca Baldwin, Room 411.

Fourth floor. Right up under the roof. While there was an elevator, I decided to take the stairs. Less risk of running into people, and a better escape route, if I needed to make a hasty retreat.

Not that I expected I would, but Professor Hall's paranoia was clearly contagious.

The fourth floor smelled like bleach and detergent, and yet the walls seemed sticky, and the carpet worn down and dirty.

Harsh white fluorescent lights did nothing to hide every sticky detail, or the way the aged institution green paint had turned, as it inevitably did, to the exact shade of vomit.

I could hear music through several doors as I walked down the hallway, a couple of loud movies, and at least one person was having fun with some porn on full blast.

With the frat party going on across the street, I guess it was less frustrating if you could at least block some of it with sounds of your own choosing.

When I got to Becky's door, I paused and once again put my phone to the task of seducing the lock, making certain it would save the correct signal once it found it.

Meanwhile I played the game of pretending to be reading a text on my phone, and trying to identify the particular melodic metal band she was listening to.

Fortunately the phone had a lot more success than me, with my meager knowledge of music trivia and band names, so before I had any epiphanies, the phone beeped its merry little tone, signifying it had successfully picked the lock for me.

Steeling my courage, I cranked the device up to a high level two setting, and gritted my teeth while the earbuds caught up to the new setting.

Then without giving myself time to have doubts or second thoughts, I slipped inside. Getting inside and shutting the door in one swift motion, I found myself in a tiny hallway, cluttered with a lot more shoes and umbrellas than one would find reasonable.

The scent was surprisingly flowery, lavender or lilacs or something. I never paid much attention to flowers, but it smelled nice, if not what I had expected from Becky.

My heart was pounding as I gently pushed open the door leading further inside Becky's apartment. Even though I had done this a few times now, it was by no means getting old.

I felt myself reflexively sneaking, as I moved inside. It was completely redundant, of course, as if the device malfunctioned, I doubted any amount of sneaking would help.

The room was surprisingly large, being a studio apartment with a kitchen section off to the right, and the rest of the area separated into section by some big wooden bookshelves, mostly filled with what looked like really old books, though there was a section with the look of more modern ones, probably the ones needed for her studies.

A couple of brass candelabra and a number of skulls served to set a suitably gothic mood for Becky's lair.

This side of the bookshelves seemed to serve as a living room area with a couple of couches and a big heavy looking wooden coffee table, that was cluttered with empty soda bottles and a number of knickknacks.

No Becky in sight so far, but I could see flickering candle light from the section behind the bookshelves.

Skulking slowly through her living room, I turned the corner of the shelves, and to my relief found Becky there, and from the looks of it, she was quite alone.

She was in what obviously served as her bedroom section, easily identified as such by the large four poster bed that dominated the space.

An open wardrobe was overflowing with all kinds of dark clothing and accessories, a make-up table was cluttered with a surprising amount of jars, considering she seemed to only ever wear black lipstick and eyeliner. From the looks of the table, there was a lot more to it than I had figured.

On her bed, Becky had her laptop opened up, facing her.

Becky herself was standing next to the bed, in front of some sort of tailor's mannequin, that she had been busy tieing up, before I entered, and the device slowed her mind down.

She was still going at it, but her movements were slow and a bit clumsy.

Becky was not wearing much, which caused an immediate reaction in my pants.

She was wearing tiny black g-string panties and a black crop top, that showed off her moonlight pale midriff very nicely.

Around her ankles and up her entire left arm were a number of ropes. Clearly she had been practicing on herself, as well as on the mannequin.

From my brief study of the ways of the rope this afternoon, I could tell that what she had been practicing on the mannequin was called a harness, with the ropes tied in such a fashion as to suggest a pentacle.

I did not quite think I could pull something like that off, but as the thought popped into my mind, I knew I had to try. The thought of Becky wearing something like this, was simply too good to miss out on.

Other than the ropes she was wearing or currently using on the mannequin, I noticed a number of additional ropes were draped across the chair next to her. Clearly she had a lot more rope than she had shown off to Jenna.

As I stood there watching her, I saw her face scrunch up a bit as she seemed to concentrate for a bit. Then to my amazement, her movements started to speed up and become more coordinated, almost like she was shrugging off the effect of the device.

It should not be possible. But inconceivable or not, she seemed to be slowly regaining her faculties. At first she seemed to be just picking up the pace, tying up the mannequin, but then I saw her head starting to turn my way, her mouth opening as if she was about to speak.

In a panic, I cranked the device up to the max, and felt my own mind power down for a moment, until the earbuds cranked up their own output to match the device.

Upgrading them to automatic adjustment was one of my better ideas, but having my mind numbed until they caught up was always unsettling.

Whatever had caused Becky to be able to claw her way back to consciousness, did not seem to help her against the level 3 setting.