If it wasn't so critical, it would be a great thought experiment. The mental gymnastics Stacy had to do to avoid following commands were impressive. Some party goers were easy to write off. There was a certain level of cocky arrogance that came with being a frat member, or at least that was sound enough reasoning in Stacy's mind to nullify certain commands. Any guy who politely asked her or used a friendlier tone was automatically considered a guest and not part of the frat. It almost seemed too easy to convince herself that essentially everyone wasn't a frat member. But that simply wasn't true. Sooner or later, something was going to be said or she was going to accidentally notice something that would force her to obey. That's where her other plan came in to play.
The persona she chose to assume was a wild, party chick. Someone who did crazy things without prompting or encouragement. If she took the initiative, there would be no reason to command her. Everyone would just party with her. At least in theory. The only wrinkle in that plan was that this wasn't just horny college students, this was drunk horny college students. Inhibitions were out the window and if a frat member jokingly told her to strip naked, then she would have no choice to obey. That was a line she hoped no one tried to cross. Acting as a wild chick was one thing, but if it escalated to her strutting around in the nude, then even if she wasn't commanded, performing sexual acts was the logical next step. It was a slippery slope she hoped to avoid sliding down.
Staying around the perimeter of the same room was another strategy she employed to avoid the middle where the members likely were and to avoid showcasing her painted ass. The symbols on her cheeks acted like an invitation for people to come over and hassle her. Usually the attention was preferred, but not under these circumstances.
"Hey drink chick, come over here."
Stacy looked around and saw a group of guys and girls staring her way. Stacy walked over with her tray and happily started handing out shots.
The same guy who called her over grabbed the shot and that's when Stacy saw it. A signet ring only worn by members of the frat. A feeling of obedience slammed in her mind. She listened attentively to anything the guy said. It was the first confirmed owner she had found, and accordingly her entire world now revolved around him.
He saw her staring with a smile and smiled back. Instead of taking the shot, he placed it in her cleavage.
"Tit shot!" the frat boy said and grabbed the shot glass with his teeth from its resting place between her tits.
Harmless fun so far, but Stacy couldn't move away from the group. Her mind lingered on the 'come over here' command and unless he told her to go away, or he and his group moved away, she was stuck in that spot.
The frat boy couldn't stop staring at her tits which were barely contained in the small bikini. He wasn't even trying to hide it, openly enjoying the gorgeous view. She tried to move away, but the effort was futile. As far as her mind was concerned, she was his property as the wording on her ass indicated. If he wanted to stare at her tits, he had ever right to. He didn't know it, but they actually belonged to him.
"Take that bikini top off." the frat boy said. From his friends, she had found out that his name was Greg.
"Yes, master." Stacy said in a sarcastic tone hoping to mask her trigger. She blew him a kiss and added a wink to make it seem more of a flirt than an obligation. Thankfully he was too drunk to notice or care.
Stacy's arms moved into action immediately as if his thoughts directly controlled them. She was a puppet in her own body. Not her own body. The frat's body. Greg's body. They controlled her actions, and she was just along for the ride.
The bikini top dropped to the ground and Stacy proudly displayed the frat's breasts. Everyone cheered.
"I'd love a taste." Greg said.
Stacy pushed her tits together and leaned forward. They were his tits; it was only right he should be allowed to taste them. Compared to the worse scenarios in her mind, this was fairly tame. But the bolder the guy got, the more he would escalate the situation. Something had to be done to break her free, but she was helpless to do it herself.
His lips wrapped around one of her nipples and he slobbered as he sucked. The scene was drawing a lot of attention. It was attention Stacy didn't want because anyone who somehow showed himself to be a frat member would instantly have free reign over her body.
A loud crash came from the front of the room. Everyone's attention switched to the disruption. The man pulled his lips off Stacy's nipple.
"What's going on?" Greg asked a nearby friend.
"Victoria's here." Another guy said and then sipped his drink.
"That stupid sorority bitch?"
His friend nodded.
"Fuck sakes. Come on, boys." Greg said and motioned everyone to follow.
The word boys was a lifesaver. It exempted Stacy from following and she remained in her position with her tits pushed forward. How long before she regained control? Was she indefinitely stuck because the guy said so? The answer came as she resumed control. Enough distance and time freed her from any command that wasn't planted as a trigger. At least that's what she gathered.
Not wanting to get caught in another situation, she hurriedly turned around, slamming a cup of beer into someone's chest.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry." Stacy said.
The first thing she saw was the frat symbol on the guy's shirt. Stacy looked up and immediately recognized the guy. There was no using her mind logic to get out of this one. The guy she had run in to was none other than Jeff, the head of the frat, and if she was being honest, one of the hottest guys at the college. He handed the cup to Stacy.
"Clean that mess up." Jeff said.
"Yes, master." Stacy said in a more sexual tone. She had to adapt each acknowledgment to the person she was dealing with. Greg was a partier and wanted a partier. Jeff was calm and collected and he wanted a challenge. Stacy blew him a slow sensual kiss and walked off to find cleaning supplies. Jeff grabbed her arm as he saw the writing on her ass.
"Too bad that isn't the truth." Jeff said. "You have one hell of a body."
Stacy was flattered. If he only knew the power he had. The noises at the front of the room regained Jeff's attention. He let Stacy go and went to deal with the issue. The silver lining of her current command was that because Jeff was the head of the frat, his command automatically overruled any other command she received. No one could outrank him and take control of her as long as she had a mess to clean up. The longer she took to clean, the less likely it was that another frat member could command her. It was the perfect alibi.
***
Joe missed his sister. It was a shame he only had a short time to play with her, but even more of a shame because of how perfectly the hypnosis had worked. Everything he had known about hypnosis was thrown out the window. Yet when he tried do something similar with his mother, it didn't work at all. Was Stacy the perfect subject or was there something else going on?
The hypnosis file Stacy listened to wasn't anything special as far as the internet said. Like any other file, the trigger worked only if the subject wanted it to. It was hard to believe that Stacy wanted to be fucked by him and all his friends. That meant there must have been something else at work.
Going through Stacy's room, there wasn't much evidence to work with and searching through her once locked desk only turned up empty boxes that should have been thrown out. She likely brought most of the items, which could have been useful in deducing how the file corrupted her, with her to college. Joe slammed the desk drawer shut, ready to give up. But something caught his eye as the drawer closed. He opened it back up and saw the box for the headphones Stacy used. The brand on the box read 'Kollar Tech'. His sister must have stolen a pair from their dad, a research and development scientist at Kollar Tech. If Joe could get his hands on a pair, with the amount of hypnosis files on the internet, the options were endless. He knew the perfect place to look for a pair of his own.
