I first met Ms. Michaels when my roommate, Cindy, and I happened to

run into her walking across campus. My roommate stopped her and

introduced me.

“How do you do,” said Ms. Michaels. She looked friendly enough and

paid attention to me, but there was something that made me uneasy

about her.

That was the only time I saw her until I signed up for her class. I

really didn’t need the class: I only needed one psych course for my

degree and I had already taken the introductory course. But Cindy

told me I ought to take another and told me that Ms. Michaels’s

course was the one to take. She finally convinced me to take it as an

elective. I did think it was a little strange that Cindy was so

vociferous about me specifically taking Ms. Michaels’s course.

Well Ms. Michaels turned out to be a fascinating teacher and she was

really nice to us too–always stopping to talk with any of us she ran

across. I stopped in her office one day to pick up an assignment and

we ended up chatting for an hour. I wished all my professors were

as easy to get along with as she was.

Well one day after class I stopped to talk to her… I guess I just felt

like talking, and we chatted for a bit and then she invited me out to

eat with her! I accepted readily and we ended up at a bar, eating

some oerdeurves.

We talked and talked that evening, and somehow we ended up talking

about men and dating. And then we were talking about sex. I had had

a couple of drinks and I guess I talked to her about intimate things

I’d never have told *anyone* any other time. But she was just so

easy to talk to.

“Well, have you *ever* felt an attraction to a female?” She was

asking me if I were bisexual? I didn’t remember how we had gotten

to this topic, but it didn’t seem out of place. I guess she interpreted

my pause as an answer. “Seriously,” she added.

“Well,” I answered.

“Oh, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she answered. She had guessed

my secret! “Some pretty coed, no doubt. Who has turned you on?”

“This is too embarrassing!”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s *good* for you to share it with *someone*.

You can trust me. Tell me who?”

“Well,” I paused again, “One of the cheerleaders–she’s a brunette.” I

had *never* told anyone this nor expected to. I *did* find myself

attracted to the cheerleader–I sometimes found myself thinking

about her at night, and when I’d see her, I’d actually feel a bit

excited.

“Do you *know* her?”

“Oh, no! I’ve… seen her at games.”

“So it’s just an attraction. It’s all right honey. Don’t be

embarrassed. It’s not at all uncommon for women.” She did talk me

into accepting that there was nothing horrible about a feeling or

two. But I hadn’t let on how much it affected me some of the time.

That was as far as our conversation went on that topic. I didn’t

think too much about it after that.

One afternoon after class on friday afternoon, Ms. Michaels stopped

me on the way out. “Come over to the lab for a minute,” she said. I

wondered what she wanted, but followed her over to another building

where the psychology labs were. We went through a couple of rooms,

turning on lights and finally came into a room where she stopped.

“Come here,” she said and I came over to where she was standing.

She took my arm, and in about a half second, I realized she had

handcuffed my wrist to a pipe!

“Ms. Michaels!” I said, too shocked to think straight.

“I’ve got something to show you,” she said. She picked up a blanket

from the other side of the floor, and there were three women, lying

on the floor, tied up and gagged!

“Ms. Michaels, what are you doing!” I began to shout for help.

“These rooms are soundproof,” said Ms. Michaels. “Don’t bother

yelling. Just listen to what I’m going to tell you!”

“What are you going to do?” I finally said, giving up on the yelling.

“I told you: listen!” I was finally silent. She had to be crazy. How

was I going to get out of here? What was going on? “I’m going to

give you your cheerleader.”

“My what?”

“Your cheerleader. The cheerleader you had the hots for. She’s going

to be yours.”

“Ms. Michaels, *please* let me go…”

“You’ve got to hear me out! I’ve got your cheerleader here.” She

pointed at the three women on the floor. “I got all the brunette ones

so one of these is the one you like. I’m going to make her want you.”

“Ms. Michaels, *please*!”

“You’re still not listening.” She sounded a little perturbed. “She’s

yours. She’ll do anything you want. I just want one thing in return.”

“*Please* let me go!” She came up and slapped my face! I looked at

her in alarm.

“I’m sorry I had to do that,” she said. “Please don’t lose control–

listen to me. She’ll do anything you want!” I was listening. “She’ll

want you badly.” She paused, but I didn’t say anything. “You don’t

believe me, do you. I can make her want you. I know how to do it.

She’ll beg you to let her make love to you and you can indulge

yourself or not at whim.”

“You’re crazy.” I finally said.

She paused. “You may be right, but what I’m saying is absolutely

true.” She paused again, but I didn’t speak up. I just stared at her. “I

can make her want you so badly she can’t control herself.”

“You hypnotize her?” Why was I talking with this madwoman?

“No, it’s much stronger and more permanent than hypnotism. I’ll

alter her mind permanently” There was another pause. Finally I

spoke.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I’ll make her your permanent sex slave… if you make love to me.” I

stared at her in disbelief. I was never so scared in my life. “You

don’t believe I can do it, do you? You don’t believe I can make her

burn so hard for you that she can’t say no to you.” I didn’t answer.

“I’ll show you. Which one is her?” I didn’t answer, but she asked me

about each one, pointing to them and my face must have revealed

something because then she knew which one I had noticed.

I finally spoke up: “If you can do this, why didn’t you just do it to

me?”

“I’ve *done* that to girls. It’s gotten to be boring. I want a girl

who’ll make love to me voluntarily.”

“Never!”

“Please!? Don’t you find me attractive? Just agree to make love to

me, and I’ll give you your own little slave, forever.”

“You’re crazy!”

“There you go again. You don’t believe me? I’ll demonstrate with one

of the other girls just to show you.” What was I going to do? She

wasn’t stopping! She pulled one of the girls up, untied her legs and

picked up some papers and walked out of the room, dragging her. The

girl was still gagged with her hands tied.

They were gone for a few minutes, but not long–maybe five minutes

tops. Then she was dragging the girl back in. She undid the girl’s

gag and hands. The girl looked at me and immediately rushed over to

me. She was on her knees at my feet and started talking, fast.

“*Please* let me lick you. *Please! I want you so badly! Please!*” I

looked down at her in disbelief. She started holding my shoe and

kissing it. She started taking my shoe off!

“Stop,” I said in a little panic.

“Please,” she said looking up at me, piteously. “I’ll… undress for

you.” She was taking off her clothes. “Please just let me *touch*

you?” I stared. It appeared that Ms. Michaels knew what she was

doing! The girl was undressed in seconds and kneeling at my feet.

“What did you do to her?” I finally asked.

“Oh, a little highly-charged behavioristic training. I showed her a

picture of you and whispered things in her ear, all the while,

judiciously applying shocks to her through electric probes and

fingering her to orgasm at the right times. It’s all a matter of

guiding her thoughts and stimulating her pain and pleasure centers

as she approaches the right thoughts. It’s surprisingly quick! Now

she doesn’t want to do *anything* that you don’t want her to do.”

“Please get her away from me!”

“You’ll have to tell her yourself! You’re the only one she’ll listen to.”

I told her to take her clothes and go get dressed.

“I’ll show you another one,” said Ms. Michaels. She pulled up the

other girl who wasn’t the one I’d mentioned and untied her legs and

ungagged her. The girl was strangely quiet and allowed herself to be

drawn. Ms. Michaels came back in a few seconds. “Here, I’ll show

you how I do it,” and she unlocked me from the pipe and locked me to

her own wrist. I went into the other room with her. The girl was

strapped to a seat with some machinery around it. Ms. Michaels

handcuffed me to another pipe and went back to her. “It’s really very

easy with the right tools,” she said. She took a hypodermic and

injected the girl with something. “Just a little something to

increase her *learning potential*” She pulled down the girl’s

panties and started fingering her vagina and her breasts. She held a

picture of me in front of the girl’s face. I heard Ms. Michaels saying

“You *love* her” over and over. The girl was coming! Then I heard

her say, “do you hate her? Do you disobey her?” and the girl

screamed! I noticed that Ms. Michaels had pressed a foot pedal and

the girl didn’t stop until she let her foot up. Then she went back to

fingering her and saying “you love her.” The girl was coming again.

She went back and forth, talking to the girl and alternating between

fingering her to orgasm and pressing the peddle.

After a couple of minutes, she stopped and unstrapped the girl. The

girl looked at me and I saw the expression on her face change. She

ran to me and then stopped, looking at me for a second. She

whispered “Please let me make love to you.” She looked so

*serious*! Ms. Michaels undid my handcuff and pulled me back into

the other room and fastened me again. The girl followed and then

got on her knees. “Please? I’ll lick you. Please? I’ll do my best!”

“You’d better tell her to be quiet,” said Ms. Michaels. I did it and told

her to go sit next to the other girl. I stared at Ms. Michaels. “Yes, I

really can do it.” I began to think of that other cheerleader begging

me. “I want to *share* this with someone,” added Ms. Michaels, “I’ve

*had* lots of girls who had no choice. You’d be *shocked* at some of

the people who obey my every whim.”

That lovely, lithe cheerleader! Begging *me*!

“You don’t know how *long* I’ve waited for this! I saw you when you

just came here. You were just what I needed. You would be

*shocked* at everything I’ve done to get you here today.” She

actually looked pitiful.

“Please? Am I so bad to look at?” asked Ms. Michaels. Actually, she

is quite attractive. “It wouldn’t be so bad indulging me? For what I

can give you?” She pointed back at the cheerleader who was still

tied up. The girl could belong to me! Ms. Michaels went over and

untied her legs and stood her up. She seemed to think she was going

to convince me. She untied the girl’s gag.

“*Please* don’t do that to me!” the girl said. She was whining like a

baby. “I want to keep my *own* mind! Please!?”

“Isn’t she irresistible?” said Ms. Michaels. I just stared at the girl,

transfixed.

“Please let me keep my mind! Please?” the girl continued. “I’ll… I’ll

do what you want! You don’t *have* to do it to me! Please?”

“You’ll what?” asked Ms. Michaels who seemed a little amused.

“I’ll… lick her. I’ll lick her as much as she wants.”

“What if she wants to whip you?” asked Ms. Michaels. The girl was

silent with a stunned expression on her face. Ms. Michaels started

pulling her toward the door to the other room. I just stared.

“OK! She can whip me if she wants! Just *please* don’t alter my

mind like that!”

“Looks like you’ve got a choice,” said Ms. Michaels with a slight

smile. “Let me lick you and you can have her either way you wish!

*Please* let me lick you!” I was surprised a sudden desperation in

Ms. Michaels voice. I still stared.

“Please!” said Ms. Michaels. The girl looked confused as if she didn’t

know what to do. She could be mine. If I just let Ms. Michaels…

“OK, on one condition,” I said quietly. Ms. Michaels looked at me,

silently.

“Let me alter *your* mind,” I said to Ms. Michaels. She still looked

at me, but her mouth opened in surprise. I went on: “I want you like

*them*.” I pointed at the other girls. “I’ll let you lick me if we fix

it so you *really* want to.”

“No!” said Ms. Michaels. The cheerleader just stared at the two of us.

“I’ll let you lick me,” I repeated. I waited, looking at her. I think I

smiled a little.