Chapter 9
He didn't feel guilty.
That was probably the strangest part. It wasn't that only eight hours ago, he had impulsively entranced Chelsea in public; it wasn't that he had forced her to strip and masturbate in front of him; it wasn't even that it seemed he was successful in permanently altering her memory.
No. What really stuck out to him was how normal it all felt.
Of course, there was fear, at first. He had practically sprinted out of the Undergrind Café, afraid that at any moment he would get a furious call from Chelsea, or turn and see her stalking him with vengeance in her eyes. But instead, the morning passed without incident into the afternoon. By the time he arrived at the evening theater club meeting, Seb had almost convinced himself that he had done it: he had navigated the fateful meeting of Chelsea and Sophia without any harsh consequences. Sure, he had to cross a few lines to do so...
...But it sure didn't feel that way.
Seb shifted his seat as the club president droned on, the tile floor providing little in the way of cushioning or comfort. Even though it was technically their "club room," the space was more like a storage area in the dormitory basement, with brick walls and exposed piping running across the ceiling. Still, the Diepner Players had worked to make the place feel like a home, hanging thrift store paintings and cast photos where they could and jamming overstuffed furniture where it would fit. Normally, these accommodations were enough for the "executive board" meetings, but these open sessions left many of the attendees clustered on the floor, listening to debates about future productions and fundraisers.
Not that Seb minded that much. His presence in the club was more of a social excuse anyway. He never played any major production roles, nor did he hold particularly strong opinions on the logistics of each show. That was all Miki and Tobias, the former of whom had managed to get herself elected Treasurer last year, despite being a freshman. She had come to the meeting with an agenda—Seb was just there for moral support. Which gave him time to think.
And wonder if the Vox wasn't having a greater effect on him than he thought.
Previously, even using it in semi-controlled circumstances would leave him with lingering doubts and guilt for days. Yet after the initial panic had faded, this morning's session had become more or less a mundane memory. He could make himself feel bad about it if he tried, reflecting on the various social, cultural and ethical rules he had broken. But the moment that fixation faded, so too did the guilt. And Seb was hard pressed to retain it.
Especially when he was this hard.
Seb adjusted his position again, awkwardly navigating around the erection that had been straining his pants the whole meeting. Bailing out on Chelsea had prevented him from pushing her boundaries further, but it had also left the Vox horribly unsatisfied. Masturbating in his room had helped, but now he was trapped in a tiny space with a crowd of cute girls, many of whom were showing more skin than normal to compensate for the unseasonably warm September air. Miki was no exception—she had probably chosen her tiny gym shorts for comfort, but the looseness of the fabric and Seb's position on the floor meant he could see far up her slender thighs every time she crossed them, occasionally catching a glimpse of her white panties as well.
It was a libido pressure cooker. Seb found himself hyper aware of every movement, every sigh from his overheating peers. Normally Seb had to concentrate to get the Vox to come out—now it was an almost dizzying effort to keep it in. So he kept reflecting on his lack of remorse, kept trying to guilt-trip his way out of the horny haze. But doing so would often lead to memories of Chelsea's vacant expression, the way she had recited mantras of submission in his name, the way her body quivered at the slightest suggestion of his touch, the way her tits...
The president slapped his laptop shut, cuing everybody to stand and head for the door. Seb belatedly realized the meeting must be over, and breathed a short-lived sigh of relief. He had made it through this trial, but the Vox needed an outlet. Its dark waters were roiling inside of him, threatening to spill out every time he opened his mouth. If he didn't find a way to drain them soon...
"Seb! How'd the reunion go?" Miki practically tackled him before the door, her eyes shining with anticipation. "Did Sophia show up like she said she would? What was she like? Has she put on weight? I want all the deets."
"Uh, er," Seb's temperature sky-rocketed, Miki's hand on his shoulder almost boiling over his brain.
Fortunately, Tobias came to the rescue, gently pulling her back. "Easy, babe, you're gonna knock him over. I'm sure it's nothing to get that excited over." His smile was easygoing, but his pupils brimmed with the same eagerness as his girlfriend.
Seb coughed, stalling for time. "W-well it went about how you would expect."
"And what does that mean?" Miki demanded. "Did you let her have it like I said you should?"
"N-no it wasn't like that." Seb hastily answered. "We just talked. It was fine. We're, um, we're good."
Miki didn't miss a beat. "Good? What's 'good?' Are you guys friends again? Lovers? Something in between?"
Her face was so close to him now. It would be so easy to just whisper a choice word or two in her ear and... "I gotta run," Seb said. "I'll tell you guys all about it soon," he quickly added as he stumbled out into the hall.
"It's all good, Seb," Tobias replied, placing a hand on Miki's shoulder so she wouldn't give chase. "We can wait till whenever you're comfortable."
Seb offered a parting smile and nod as he left.
Inside, he bleakly wondered if he would ever be comfortable again.
_______________________________________________
"I-I appreciate the invite," Seb smiled uneasily. "But I really do have work I need to get done."
"C'mon bro, it'll be fun," Ben pressed, rocking anxiously on his bed. "You, like, barely ever go out. What's the point of college if you're gonna spend Saturday nights cooped up in your dorm?"
In all honesty, after everything that had happened to Seb the past couple days, a night alone to reflect and wrestle the Vox under control sounded like exactly what he needed. Yet no sooner had he returned to his dorm then his roommate had rushed to invite him to some house party they absolutely "had" to go to that night. Seb had, of course, politely turned him down—Ben was an alright guy, but it had become clear early in the semester that his idea of "fun" did not line up with Seb's.
"Trust me, you don't want to see me at parties," Seb tried a different tack. "I'd only drag you and Phil down."
"Well, uh, that's the thing." Ben scratched his neck awkwardly. "Funny story. Phil and I actually went out last weekend and ran into that Chelsea chick. And Phil was like, totally wasted, and started saying stupid shit, and we got kicked out."
The hairs on Seb's neck stood up on end. "What did Phil say?" he asked.
"I dunno man, dumb stuff," Ben fumed. "He was being such an asshole, bro. Even I know you don't fuckin' drag a girl at her own sorority party. Anyway, the point is: I just need a break from Phil for a sec, but I can NOT show up to this party alone, y'know?"
"Uh, sure," Seb lied.
"Look bro, I'm tellin' ya, this is exactly what you need," his roommate continued. "Loosen up! Let that brain of yours rest for a night. Maybe get some action? I'll totally wingman for you if you come. Scout's honor."
"Eh-heh. That..." Seb paused.
Wait a second.
