Author's note: All characters in this story are over 18, as stated within the story.
The next morning I was up, showered, dressed and breakfasted well before the girls put in a belated and bleary-eyed appearance. Their exertions of the night before had clearly taken a toll.
"Ladies, I am off to Oxford to complete some important business, but I have tasks for you also," I said, deliberately being annoyingly cheerful, while Delilah and Ilse were slowly investigating what was left of the breakfast I had ordered for us.
"The three of us will be going to stay in Tuscany for a good while. I am not sure how long for, but several weeks at least. We fly out tomorrow." This was news to them, and I now had their attention.
"Ilse, here is a debit card in your name, which is registered against my bank account. I set it up yesterday. It has a £25,000 limit, so I want you and Delilah to feel free to spend whatever is necessary. I want you both to go shopping and buy a full wardrobe for each of you -- streetwear, swimming costumes, bikinis, lingerie, hosiery, shoes, accessories, make-up -- in short everything you might need."
Both were now grinning at me like cats that had got the cream. I continued, "As my consorts I expect you to choose stylish and elegant clothes, but I also require that everything should also be sexy. Use your judgement."
"Delilah, I suspect that you are familiar with every sex-shop and fetish store in London. Please buy all the sex toys and erotic clothing you consider necessary for us to have a fun time. In particular I want you to make sure that Ilse's secret fantasy is catered for. Ilse will tell you what it is. Given your love of kinky stuff, I imagine you will be pleased."
Delilah looked intrigued by this last part, eyeing the German girl with interest. But rather than ask further now, she said, "I have some useful stuff at my flat and at the Club. Shall I get that too?"
"Yes," I said, "and you had also better get enough suit cases to get everything to Italy."
"What about you?" said Inga, examining me critically. "Millionaires don't dress like that. If you want us to look good, then you should too."
It dawned on me that she had a point. For years I had dressed as a typical middle-income academic, and a single one at that, with no woman to correct my errors. That wouldn't do now.
"Well, I have to go to Oxford today. But when we get to Italy, I will let you give me a make-over. How about that?" And so it was agreed.
It would be fair to say that telling two young women that their job for the day was to go clothes shopping with a practically unlimited budget, and then top it off with some sexy purchasing afterward, was not exactly displeasing to them. Ilse and Delilah were smiling happily and already starting to plan their day, the English girl promising to show the German one what London had to offer in terms of advanced retail therapy.
Nevertheless, Ilse had a small regret. "I have heard so much about the famous University at Oxford. I should have liked to have seen it," she said wistfully. "Perhaps you could bring us back a present from Oxford. Some souvenir of the place," she asked.
"Yes of course. I will see what I can find," I replied.
* * * * *
Leaving the girls to their tasks, I took a taxi to Oxford. There was no longer any need for me to mess around with public transport, given my sudden wealth.
I stopped off first at my own flat and picked up a few essentials. From my home office I sent the crucial email direct to Haller's office, attaching my mind-control researches as an encrypted file. Then I copied the research onto a flash drive as a back-up and took that and my laptop with me. There, it was done. I was fully committed.
I then went on to my college. I had phoned ahead and arranged to meet my senior, Professor Toby Wood, at midday. I explained to him that I wanted to resign my post, as I had been offered a lucrative position with JI Weyer-Kant and decided to take it. I added that I was happy to make a gift of my research to the University. I was referring to my legitimate work, of course. Professor Wood was entirely unaware of my private research into mind control.
He was not at all annoyed. Such transfers between academia and business were quite normal. After all, I was 28 and it was natural enough that I might want to make some serious money. Professor Wood offered me his best wishes and an invitation to return and complete my work whenever I wished. We shook hands and I left his office on good terms.
Now I had one final thing to do, something I had only decided on during my journey to Oxford. This decision was a synthesis of three things. The first was Ilse's request for me to bring back a memento of Oxford. The second was a feeling that for a stay of indeterminate length in Tuscany somehow a harem of two girls did not seem sufficient -- three felt like a much more satisfactory number. The third was a memory that had suddenly come to me.
As I have already recounted, I had done extensive tests of my methods on students over the last few years. One in particular had made a lasting impression on me, a fiercely intelligent but also beautiful and sexy Californian girl I had met the year before. At the time she had been a fresher, just 18. Even back then I had been tempted to push my luck in her case, but had held back as I was still unsure of my methods.
She would be 19 now, in her second year. I recalled that she was a science undergraduate, studying chemistry. Initially I struggled to remember her name -- something to do with a US state I thought -- but, while I had been talking to Professor Wood, it had come to me. Georgia Harding. As I recollected this desirable prize, I decided that she would be the perfect addition to my harem and also an ideal souvenir of Oxford to take back to Ilse and Delilah.
Of course there was a chance that she had left Oxford, or got married, or any number of other things to ruin my plans. Even if I could find her, it was even more likely that I wouldn't be able to get her alone to carry out my plan. But as events proved, my luck was very good and Georgia's was terrible. What should really have been one of my most difficult conquests turned out to be one of the easiest.
After a hurried lunch, I went to the chemistry research labs and asked the porter whether Georgia Harding was available. I had been long enough at Oxford to be recognised by sight, and the porter had no reason not to tell me. He affirmed she was and she was in lab 7, monitoring an experiment.
I made my way up the stairs and to the indicated room without encountering anyone. The place was quiet. I let myself in and there was Georgia, alone. She was seated on a stool and attending to a computer screen that showed the flicker of changing numbers. Occasionally she jotted a note on a paper pad, seemingly more for something to do than from any real need.
She realised someone had entered the room and spun the stool round. This allowed me to see her. She had her blonde hair tied back and was wearing a white lab coat, open at the front. The rest of her dress was a typical student outfit of jeans, T-shirt and trainers. This unglamorous attire did not disguise the fact that she was still as desirable as I remembered, in fact more so. Her figure was perfect, her face beautiful, and her blue eyes and blonde hair, a shade darker than Ilse's, glorious.
It seemed she remembered me as, while her face showed surprise, she displayed no concern at my unexpected arrival. "Oh, hi, its Mr. Mitchell isn't it? I took part in an experiment for you last year, didn't I?"
"Yes, that's right. It was about that I came to see you. I am contacting some of my former subjects because I have made some changes to the experiment. I want to rerun it with the same people to act as a control to see what changes in effect there are, if any." It was a plausible enough story, I thought, and she accepted it.
