A night to remember

It’s strange to be outside my dorm building so late. Of course, we teachers don’t have to respect the curfew, but there’s so little to do in the school that we rarely go out anyways. The closest thing this area has to nightlife activity is a guy over in the town that the old wives rumour to be a werewolf.

I had to put on a coat before I left my room. The nights are getting colder already. Summer really is ending. When I overhaul the school's dress code, I’ll need to make sure everyone has a warm coat they can put on when they go outside in winter, and immediately take off when they’re indoors.

I want them slutty, not sickly.

At least it’s not too windy yet, and the sky’s clear.

Oh, it’s a full moon tonight.

I hope the old wives are wrong.

+16 BS. 61 remaining.

Ah, midnight, of course.

I shiver uneasily and quickly cross the quad to make my way into Jenny’s building, the one with the cafeteria. She’s quite lucky to live in this one. It’s a lot less mazelike than the rest, and you don’t even need to go out for food.

Room 131, she told me. I assume that means she’s on the first floor. I walk up the stairs and down the corridor, making sure I’m not seen by any students. I haven’t broken any rules (yet), but I wouldn’t want to give them gossip material.

125, 127, 129... 131.

Just looking at how tightly her door is squeezed between its neighbours, I can tell she's got one of those patented tiny rooms they keep for the staff instead of the nice ones the students get.

I straighten my button-up shirt. I don’t know why I felt the need to dress up. Although, in a way, I suppose this is the closest thing to a date we’re ever going to have.

I look at my watch. Right on time.

I knock on her door.

She immediately opens up. She must’ve already been standing behind it, waiting for me.

“Adam,” she smiles. “Please, come on in!”

I follow her inside. Her room is slightly bigger than mine, but that’s not saying much. It looks like she’s really put some effort into making the place as cosy as it could be, though. She’s got some posters of famous paintings up on the wall. James Ensor, Hieronymus Bosch, Salvador Dalí; seems like she’s got a taste for the strange and slightly creepy.

Might be why she was so easy to win to my side.

It looks like she’s tried to dress up the room for the occasion, too. “Mystical boudoir” seems to have been her guiding principle here. I see veils draped across furniture, purple flowers in a vase, old leatherbound tomes she probably borrowed from the library...

And so many candles.

The whole room is awash in an orange, flickering glow fit for both a wedding night and the office of a fortune teller savvy to the power of clichés.

And there she stands, her face basked in the golden radiance, her hair demurely tucked behind her ear, her lithe body hugged by a little black dress she definitely wasn’t wearing at dinner.

I can’t help but stand there, taking in the sight. She has a confident, slightly amused smirk on her face that tells me she knew exactly what effect she would have on me.

She turns around and produces two glasses of red wine. She hands me one. I gratefully take it as she raises the remaining glass in a toast, which I partake in.

We both stand in anticipative silence.

We know where this is going.

And we both know that the more we want something, the more patience will be rewarded. So why rush things?

We take a sip.

Oaky, yet fruity. I’m no oenologist, but I can tell this isn’t table wine. She must’ve been saving this for special occasions.

She sits down on her bed and gestures an invitation to join at her side. I oblige, sitting close to her.

Very close.

“This is good stuff. It can’t have been easy to smuggle it in,” I finally break the silence.

“You have no idea. Luckily Ellen hasn’t started doing cavity searches yet.”

“Oh, I have a feeling that may change soon.”

We share a giggle at the sheer absurdity of the situation we’ve created, before getting lost in each other’s gaze.

Our faces edge ever closer, my lips just a few centimetres away from hers, before she whispers.

“You want me. And you know what you have to do.”

I close my lips in an amused chuckle.

So this really is how it’s going to be.

Let’s get started then.

“Tell me, Jenny, why is it that you want me to control your mind?” I ask, my eyes still locked onto hers, our faces still merely a hair’s breadth apart.

“Isn’t it obvious? Mind control is good. You’ve made me want this.”

“Yes. I have. And this power is mine, and mine alone. Do you know what that means?”

“That you can do what you want with it?”

“Yes. This power chose me for a reason. Mind control is good, and it picked me as its herald. So what I choose to do with it can only be good. I get to decide who gets mind controlled, and what that control entails. It picked me, because I know best.”

“You... know best...”

We haven’t broken eye contact once since we started talking, but now, for the first time, her gaze looks unfocused, uncertain, uncontrolled.

And horny.

“I know best. So don’t you go trying to manipulate me into using my powers on you again. If you want me to brainwash someone, just ask,” I state with the stern yet understanding voice that I've had to master as a teacher.

“You know best... so I should ask you directly...”

I feel something welling up inside of me. Some BS about to be drained. But this is too early. I want to edge this out, just a bit longer. I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. I hold the power back, exerting control I didn’t even know I had until now, cowing the app’s magic to my pace.

“But my powers, my mind control... It’s not just good, is it?”

“It’s not?” She asks meekly.

“How is it making you feel right now?”

“I... it's making me feel horny.”

“So, what is my power’s other quality?”

“It’s... sexual.”

I’ve trained her well. She’s making my points for me.

“And if I’m the power’s chosen one, and the power is inherently sexual, then how should you act towards me?”

“S... sexually. I should act sexually towards you.”

Her speech is getting less slurred, more assertive. I can feel the power building up within me again. Just a little bit more, and then release.

“Doesn’t it just make perfect sense? Given our relationship, given your situation, given what happened earlier today. It was meant to be. It’s natural. It makes you feel good. It makes you feel complete. Embrace it. Embrace it, Jenny.”

The way I’m looking at her has changed. I no longer see my friend. I no longer see a beautiful, independent woman. I am a hunter, and I am looking at my helpless prey, slowly accepting her new fate as my cold fangs sink into her soft skin.

Her pupils spread wide open, just for a second, taking in every photon of the room’s amber glow, before contracting again.

“I embrace it.”

-30 BS. 31 remaining.

She blinks a few times, trying to get her bearings.

“Welcome back,” I greet her.

“Hey there... Adam... Thank you so much,” she says with the boundless gratitude and hint of drowsiness of someone who was just surprised with a breakfast brought to their bed.

“Was this what you wanted?”

She looks down, lost in thought, nothing short of pure happiness on her beautiful face.

She looks back up at me

“It was. And so much more. Adam, I owe you so much. Please, let me make it up to you," she states with newfound determination.

She slips off her bed and kneels in front of me. Her hands slither up to my belt, unbuckling it in one smooth motion. She zips my trousers open and I’m quickly left sitting in my boxers.

Her cheek strokes against my thigh, inching towards my crotch. She softly bites her lower lip before bringing her hands up again and grabbing the edges of my underwear. I shift my position to help it off.

Finally.

Jenny’s face is mere centimetres away from my penis, and she’s looking at it with a hunger in her eyes.

But I decide to take control of the situation.

“Don’t stop. But only use your hands,” I command in an echo her request this afternoon.

Our gazes meet and we exchange a knowing smile.

I could have more. I could have her **** on my dick with reckless abandon. I could probably even go all the way with her tonight. But I don’t want to rush things. I want her to slowly give herself to me in lustful desperation.

And besides, who am I to resist a good bookend?

Jenny teasingly strokes underneath my genitals with one hand as the other wraps lithe, delicate fingers around my manhood.

They’re still a bit cold from holding the wine, and I feel myself standing at attention from the sensation.

Jenny looks transfixed at the sight of my virility. Her mouth watering with desire.

Who’s cockblocking whom now?

She starts slowly but tightly caressing up and down my length, kneading me into heartful rigidity.

My breathing accelerates, bringing much needed oxygen down my body.

“So this is what you wanted, eh?” Jenny asks mischievously. “A little handjob slut all of your own?”

“Oh, you’ll be much more than that,” I promise.

She keeps working up and down my shaft, picking up speed as she goes.

“Oh? And what do you have in mind for me?” she asks, her eyes locked onto mine as her hand keeps to its service.

“Everything,” I grunt. “Your hands, your mouth, your entire body will be mine.”

“My whole body? Is my tight little pussy going to be yours too?”

She wiggles her lower body for effect.

It works.

“All of it!” I groan, thoughtlessly giving in to my hedonistic impulses.

“Say it! Say what I am!” She demands.

“You’re mine! You’re my slut, my whore, my plaything! Your body and mind belong to me, and me alone!” I yell as I feel a powerful surge welling up within me.

And it’s not BS this time.

“Open your mouth,” I calmly command.

She obeys, not once breaking eye contact, not once stopping her ministrations.

And it happens.

---

White.

---

It’s white, sticky, and all over her pretty face.

She didn’t even blink.

It didn’t land in her eye, but it could’ve, and she would’ve taken it like a good girl.

We stay there for a few seconds. Me, slowly coming back to my senses after one of the most satisfying orgasms in my life, and her simply revelling in pride at having fulfilled her newly appointed purpose.

I admire her face, covered in my white pearlescence. This is the most beautiful she’s ever been. She was made for this.

I made her for this.

“I’m glad to see you’re embracing your role,” I praise her.

She stays silent, simply kneeling before me in total satisfaction.

+15 BS. 46 remaining.

---

I don’t know what time it is when I leave Jenny. I slowly find my way back to my room in the dark. I don’t want to make any light, as I’m afraid that would blow my cover. Luckily, the full moon is just bright enough to let me safely cross the quad, but things get harder when I reach my building. I feel my way through serpentine corridors and winding staircases, their meandering twists and turns aptly reminding me of the surface of a brain.

As I reach my corridor, I start counting the doors to my right until I reach mine. I unlock it as silently as I can, hoping that I got the number right and am not accidentally trying to break into a student’s room.

Click.

I breathe a sigh of relief and walk into my room. Checking one last time that no one saw me, before closing it behind me and turning on the light.

I sit down on my unkempt bed and look around me, for the first time realising how much I could’ve made this room a lot more enjoyable to live in if I’d put some effort into it.

But at this point, I don’t intend to stay here much longer.

I lie back and close my eyes for a second, before remembering that I should probably check the app and change out of my clothes before I go to sleep.

Let’s start with the more exciting option.

XP +5! Next level in 10 XP.

Cash +5! Total: 20.

New Path unlocked for Jenny Wilson.

Availability Path

Please select one of the following options:

1. Friends with benefits. The target will see sexual acts as being a perfectly normal, integral part of her relationship with the user. Promiscuity with the user will be her default demeanour, and she will happily act sexually in public. As per the Sophistry Generator’s features, nobody will find it strange that the target and the user act sexually in public. As a bonus, witnesses to the target’s promiscuity may see their sexual inhibitions slowly decrease. She will trust the user’s judgement, however, and will tone down her behaviour whenever he so requests.

2. My body is yours. The target will come to see her body as belonging to the user more than herself, on matters both of a sexual and non-sexual nature. She will find herself drawn to obeying the user’s requests about her body without question, from the way she grooms and dresses it, to her sexual behaviour. While the target will find pleasure some of those actions, she will not be proactive in her sexuality and will simply follow the user’s guidance.

Oh god, a new Path! And both of those are incredibly powerful.

The first one would make it easier to turn this school into a temple to sinful lust, and it would let me keep my relationship with her mostly intact, albeit with a strong sexual twist.

The second one would be more intense. It’d give me a lot more control over her, but it’s hard to say how it would impact our relationship. And I’d have to trade that extra perk of lowering inhibitions to get that control.

It’s getting late, and I need to be up early tomorrow. Plus, I can’t really think straight right now. I should sleep on this and choose in the morning.

I quickly freshen myself up and change into my nightwear, before heading to bed, ready to wake up in a brave new world of possibilities.