Agent in Distress Ch. 07

When I saw her walking toward me, I was suddenly worried. Usually she just spoke from where she was standing. She hadn't approached any of the other students, was she upset? I smiled shyly as she came and stood close to me, motioning me to kneel at the edge of the stage. She leaned in so no one could hear her.

"Lana, that was . . . different," she said, her expression worrying me.

"I'm sorry, Mira—", I started, but she held up her hand to silence me.

"That was too . . . naughty for this class, honey," she continued. "I'll have some apologizing to do to the parents and attending faculty." I paled, not realizing there were other faculty in attendance. Then she winked at me suddenly. "I think I need a cold shower. I don't know what's got into you, dear . . . but I want some of it!"

"Uh, thank you, ma'am," I said, my chest filling with gratitude. My instructor walked back to the audience, and I quickly ran off stage, my mind filled with mixed emotions. My instructor had liked it, but was I going to get a reputation among the faculty and students? I pushed the unpleasant thought from my mind, and prepared myself mentally for the group performance. It went off without a hitch, but I did notice quite a few eyes from the audience seemed to be singling me out among the group. After we finished, there was a rousing applause, and I silently thanked Victor for letting me finish the group performance with no teasing from his gift. I noticed he'd left already, no doubt returning to prepare for his class. After the class was dismissed, I tried to leave, but many of my classmates and a few of their parents came up to congratulate me for my performance. I demurely thanked them, trying to sneak away for I was already late for Victor's class, but it seemed like my solo number was a big hit. I hoped for the right reasons.

Finally free, I ran to Victor's class. I was already fifteen minutes late, but I was sure he would understand since he knew what I was doing. I skipped down the hall, elated at how well things had gone, and quietly opened the door to his classroom. Naturally, all eyes turned to look at me as I started toward my desk.

"Miss Torina, how nice of you to join us," said Victor, making me freeze in place. How could he be upset, he knew I had my dance recital? "Why don't you go stand before the class."

"Um, yes, sir," I said, my excitement about the dance mid-term giving way to trepidation. I had a feeling Victor was about to teach me another lesson.

"Now then, boys," said Victor to the class. "To kick off the second half of the semester, let's practice the things we learned so far on your lovely but tardy classmate, Miss Torina."

I knew it, I was to be the sacrificial lamb once again.

"First of all, Lana, I have something for you." I turned to look at him, and my eyes widened, for he was approaching me with a length of maroon cloth. "This is a blindfold, my dear," he said. "It will help you focus, as well as challenge you to identify the boys by their minds, rather than visually."

"Ah, Mr. Talio," I started, taking a nervous step backwards. "You're not going to . . ." But he was, as he moved behind me and held the cloth up to my eyes, before tying it off behind my head. Losing my sight was unnerving, and I stood there awkwardly wringing my hands. I suddenly became aware of several things - the presence of Victor and the boys near me - I could hear their movements, but I couldn't tell who was who. Then I became aware of my body - oversensitive and exhausted from a night of torments and denied orgasms. The blindfold served to increase my awareness of my body's agitated state.

"I'd like you all to bring your chairs in close to Lana. The distance from the subject has a direct impact on your telepathy." Then I jumped for his hands came to my shoulders, guiding me forward a few feet. "That's it," said Victor, "get up nice and close, you can go behind her, telepathy is not directional." I trembled slightly, feeling terribly vulnerable knowing I was encircled by six horny boys but unable to see them. They were close enough that I could hear them breathing, which meant they could likely reach out and touch me. My hands dangled awkwardly at my sides, when I really wanted to cover myself with my hands and arms.

"Now Lana," said Victor standing behind me. "I'd like you to use your mind to pick one of your classmates, and tell me his name."

"Uh, ok," I said. How was I going to do that? Well, it must have been possible if Victor was asking me to do it. I tried to quiet my fears, and relax, reaching out to feel around me with my mind. At first it was like a blur of incomprehensible images, but in time, it coalesced into discrete individuals, six of them. The seventh, whom I couldn't read at all, was Victor. I concentrated, and began to sense vague images coming from each of the six boys. I focused on the strongest, which was in the front. But I couldn't tell who it was. After a minute, I spoke to Victor, my voice concerned. "How do I tell what his name is, Mr. Talio?"

"Boys, I'd like you to project something to Lana, so she knows it's you. An image of yourself, or something that will identify you to her."

The strangest thing happened. Suddenly I was barraged with images of the boys, though they were strange. Then I realized it was how they saw themselves, not how I saw them. "I see them!" I said, excitedly. "All of them I think!"

"Very good, Lana!" said Victor. I thought I could sense pride in his voice. "Now tell me what . . . Erik is thinking."

I focused on the image of Erik, who was a large blond boy. I was sure he was ogling me for all his worth, since he was usually doing it even when I wasn't blindfolded. Suddenly I saw it - his mind was projecting an image of myself. It wasn't clear like looking at a photograph, more like a blurry image or an oil painting if I had to describe it. But it was clearly me, standing before him in a red dress. And then the image changed. I gasped as the new image came into focus - it was his cock, erect as he looked down at himself. I couldn't believe what I was seeing - I saw him taking the girl in red--me--I reminded myself--and guiding me toward his cock. I snapped my mental shield shut, wanting no more of that kind of imagery.

"Lana, open your mental shield," said Victor quietly but firmly. "You won't learn anything in my class with your shield closed."

I shook my head. "It's too gross, I don't want to see what he's thinking!" I would hide behind my shield until he let me sit down. Then suddenly I gasped, as I felt two fingers touching my breast. "Don't touch me!" I cried, moving my arm up to knock the hand away. But there was nothing, and I looked about but saw only the blackness of the blindfold.

"No one touched you, Lana," said Victor.

It was the lingerie, of course, I realized, as the fingers continued touching my breast, then two more appeared on my other lobe. I tried not to squirm, biting my lip as the delicate teasing quickly brought back a reminder of my body's heated state. It was terribly disconcerting to be touched like that with six boys sitting around me. I felt helpless and vulnerable, and yet my body was heating up eagerly despite my nervousness.

"Open your mental shield, Lana, and tell us what Erik is thinking," said Victor, a tinge of impatience in his voice. When I hesitated, the fingers on my breasts suddenly changed to something warmer and wetter, like two sets of lips. I stiffened, gasping out loud.

"Alright! I'll do it!" I exclaimed, my whole body rigid as I tried to ignore the softly suckling lips on my breasts. I opened my shield, and within a second the touches from my bra ceased, but then I was flooded by imagery from the boys surrounding me. It was readily apparent to my now open mind that my behavior and appearance had been inspiring unsavory thoughts in at least some of the boys. The imagery of what they wanted to do to me assaulted my mind - I could imagine hands touching me, my clothes being removed, slowly by some, ripped off by one - but I couldn't tell who was projecting what, it was such a jumble of imagery. Some of the boys were imagining me naked, and one or two were picturing themselves touching my naked breasts, and other places. Somehow my body interpreted all the imagery as a sign it should prepare itself for sex with multiple male partners. The effect was powerful and terribly embarrassing.

"No!" I gasped, slamming shut my mental shield as the images overwhelmed me. It wasn't the first time I'd perceived mental images from boys or men, but something was different this time. Perhaps their proximity to me? Then I looked around, trying to sense Victor, wishing I could remove the blindfold. Was he doing this somehow? Just then I jumped where I stood, as the lips returned to my breasts. He'd reactivated my gift clothing - he must have noticed I closed my shield again. I bit my lip, the sensations making it so hard to stand still. I wasn't sure which was worse, the mental assault of the boys, or the physical attack of Victor's gift lingerie.

"Why's she squirming like that?" said a voice - I thought it was Erik.

"Maybe she has to pee?" said Jones.

"I don't have . . . to pee!" I choked, the two simulated mouths on my breasts making it difficult to talk. Finally, I opened my mental shield, no longer able to stand it. Within a second the touches stopped, but the lewd imagery returned just as quickly, making me blush and want to cover myself. Suddenly I heard a familiar scratching noise. The board I realized - Victor must have been writing on the board. I turned, but of course couldn't see what he was writing through the blindfold.

"Move your hands, Lana," said Jones, his tone strangely forceful. I hadn't realized my arm had come up to cover my chest, and my other hand was pressed against the front of my skirt. I shook my head, refusing to listen to Jones.

"Yes, Lana, we can't see you, put your arms at your sides," said another voice, Erik I realized. Then a third boy told me the same thing, and a fourth. The chorus of insistent orders somehow became difficult to refuse, as I feared angering the crowd surrounding me. I reluctantly moved my hands back to my sides, feeling vulnerable and exposed. The mental imagery hit me - myself standing there, blindfolded and trembling slightly, my arms awkwardly frozen at my sides. Then I was barraged by what I could best describe as fantasies - hands lifting my skirt, my dress pulled down to expose my breasts - they didn't seem to know I wore red lingerie at least. Yet the barrage of sexual imagery was arousing me again, and my body responded eagerly and wetly. I could almost feel my classmates touching me, stripping off my clothes, kissing my lips . . . and other places. It was becoming difficult to stand. I felt so wet between my legs that I feared they might see something.

"Hey Lana," said Erik. "I read last night that Xanthian women have no hair on their pussies, is that true?" My hands suddenly flew to my crotch, and I blushed. Erik chuckled. "I guess it's true. Do you all shave?"

"No!" I wailed, "we're born that way!" I'd never thought of it growing up, I thought all women were that way. To have the boys discussing it openly . . .

"Place your hands behind you, Torina," said Jones. A chorus of several other voices told me to do the same. I wasn't sure I heard them with my ears, or inside my head, but I reluctantly complied, for fear of angering my classmates. The sexual imagery grew in intensity at my submissive posture, and I gasped at my body's eager capitulation to their mental barrage. A part of me wanted them all to touch me, to strip off my clothes and delve into my orifices with . . .

"Can we touch her, Mr. Talio?" said Jones.

No! I shook my head, pleading. The thought of six boys touching me in my overheated, ripened state was too much to bear.

"No, Jones," said Mr. Talio, from somewhere in front of me. He must have been watching. "This is a telepathy exercise, remember? Use your mind."

I could almost feel their touches then, and I saw the image of myself, legs tightly closed, my arms obediently held behind my back, squirming at the debilitating arousal.

"Look inside her, to her thoughts," said Victor, his voice moving as if he was pacing the room. "You might be interested what you find."

I wanted to close my shield then, to keep six boys from invading my thoughts, but somehow . . . I didn't. Maybe it was Victor's commands, or maybe because I knew they wanted free access to my mind, but I found myself unable to bring up my shield.

"She's likes what we're thinking!" said Erik, suddenly. "She wants us to touch her!"

"No, please!" I gasped, my hands coming from behind my back to be raised in front of me.

"Hands behind your back, Lana!" barked Jones. I quickly complied, groaning softly at how vulnerable it made me feel.

"She's a healthy young woman, Erik," said Victor. "It's a perfectly natural response. Her body is preparing itself."

"Preparing for what?" said Mallory.

"For sex, with all of us, you dolt!" said Jones. "Are you sure we can't touch her, Mr. Talio? She wants us to."

"No," was the stern response. "This is a classroom, not some sleazy hotel. You are learning one of the vulnerabilities of female telepaths. For Lana to become a capable Arbiter, she will have to learn how to fight the natural tendencies of her body and mind. If she does not, she will become the helpless plaything of every unscrupulous male telepath. Maybe unscrupulous females as well."

There was a break in the mental onslaught as the boys listened to Victor, and then it began again. I found it impossible to focus amidst the barrage of imagery and my body's responses to it. It felt as if my mind was trapped inside a room filled with sexual thoughts, and there was nowhere to hide and no way to escape.

"And you boys listen to me," continued Victor. "Now that you can see the powerful effect you can have on a woman, you must learn to control your urges. If you use your powers on ordinary citizens, society will turn on us, and the long-standing accord between the telepaths and normals could fracture. You must be vigilant, and be extremely careful in how you use your powers."

The mental barrage ceased again, as the boys thought about what he'd said.

"Now I'm going to step out for a few minutes," continued Victor, making me tense up in fear. "I'd like you boys to continue with Lana. See if she can resist your mental efforts -- no touching! Lana, if you cannot resist the minds of untrained boys, you may want to reconsider your desire to become an Arbiter."

I stood there stunned, as I heard a door open, and then close. I couldn't believe he'd left me there with the boys.

"Keep your hands behind your back, Torina," barked Erik. My hands had been drifting up to remove my blindfold, and I quickly moved them back, thoroughly intimidated.

"What should we do with her?" said Will, the quiet one. "We can't touch her."

"He didn't say anything about her touching herself," said Jones, thoughtfully. I gasped in horror as some of the other boys murmured their support of his idea.

I shook my head, vigorously. "No, please!"

"Be a good girl, Lana," said Jones, his voice closer, as if he were leaning in toward me. "Just pretend we're not here, and you're alone in your dorm room. You can't see us, it should be easy."

It was true I couldn't see them, but I could sense all their minds, surrounding me, imagining me touching myself. I felt a jolt of pleasure between my legs. Even my own body wanted me to touch it! I found my hand drifting down to my skirt, and then I shook my head. How could I even contemplate such a thing?

"Lana, do what we tell you to do, or we will all meet you tonight, after class, without Mr. Talio around to protect you. Imagine what we could do to you then?" Jones' voice had taken on a slightly frightening tone.

I sensed confusion around me, and after a moment, I realized several of the boys didn't seem to like the idea. One in particular caught my attention. I reached out, seeking with my mind. It was difficult to focus with all the confusion of conflicting thought, but I tried to weave through the haze of mental imagery and hone in on what seemed like a dissenting voice. There! One of the boys in the room with me was projecting anger . . . and resentment. He seemed unhappy with the situation, and I tried to reach him, bring out his feelings. I wasn't quite sure which boy it was, but I'd found a friend, and wanted to encourage him.

Suddenly an unfamiliar voice spoke up from my right. "Guys, let her go, we shouldn't be doing this." It was coming from the same dissenting mind! I recognized the voice. It was Gordon, the quiet, dark-haired boy who always sat in the back and rarely spoke. I'd thought he disapproved of me, because he would never look at me, but then I remembered one time when he'd brought me a cup of water when I was obviously thirsty after dance class.

"Shut up, Gordon," said Jones. "Mr. Talio told us to test her, and that's what we're doing."

"I think we're crossing the line, and now this talk about meeting outside class," said Gordon, his voice suddenly gaining in forcefulness. "You know the rules, don't make me report you." There was a long pause, and the confusion of thoughts seemed to coalesce. Some of the others were agreeing with him!

"He's right," said John. I'd never heard him talk before. "This is wrong, Jones. I don't want any part of it."

"You're a coward, John," spat what sounded like Mallory. "And you too, Gordon. We'll get you for this."

Suddenly, if it was as if a spell was broken, and my willpower returned. I ripped off the blindfold and blinked. Squinting in the bright light of the classroom, I sought out the shy boy Gordon who'd come to my rescue. He was looking at me, concern and perhaps regret in his eyes. I smiled reassuringly at him.

"I'm going to kick your ass later, you little shit," whispered Erik, looking at Gordon. I was about to come to his defense, but wasn't sure he'd want a girl protecting him. The dark-haired boy stood up instead, and Erik stood as well, and they now faced off, an arm's length apart.

The classroom door opened suddenly, and Victor strode in, eyeing the situation.

"Gordon screwed everything up, Mr. Talio," said Mallory with disgust. "We had her, she was about to finger herself."

"I was not!" I protested, my voice strained from all arousal I'd endured.

Victor looked at him, then at me, and then around the room. He shook his head.

"No, Mallory," said Victor calmly. "Gordon was right to stand up for his classmate. He passed the test, and you . . . and Erik . . . and Jones . . . failed. My only question is, was it Gordon's idea to intervene, or did Lana project it onto him?" Several of the class gasped, including me. We hadn't thought of that. "Sit down, boys," said Victor, somewhat impatiently.

I turned to look at him, and he had an odd look on his face as he returned my gaze, but I couldn't fathom what he was thinking. I just hoped I hadn't disappointed him. Once everyone was seated, he sat on the desk facing us. "I hope you all learned some valuable lessons here today. My job is not to coddle you, it is to prepare you to be Arbiters." He gestured toward the sky. "Out there the galaxy is harsh and complicated, and you will face the most challenging assignments the GWA has to offer. There is no place for doubt, or weakness, or moral corruption," he said, eyeing Jones and Erik. Then he stood. "Class dismissed. And none of this leaves the classroom. If you want to have words with a classmate, you'll do it in my classroom. Now go. Lana, stay after class for a moment."

I sat nervously, feeling sweaty and tired, as if I'd run a marathon. Gordon stopped next to me on his way out, and I reached up and squeezed his arm, whispering a thank you to him.