Super College Ch. 01

She twisted her head to one side, instinctively and futilely trying to stop him seeing her start crying as he settled the plug inside her.

"Oh, I'm glad you've started crying. Crying means emotions, and emotions make my job easier. Now, to make sure you don't lose these little toys while you're still enjoying them."

A cold, curved plate was pressed over her from her ass to above her lips, and held in place with straps like a G-string.

She desperately choked back her tears, wrenching her head back upright, gulping down the tears and snot running down the back of her throat.

Her analytical brain told her the plate had a hole in it, right over her clitoris, just before he pressed cold metal into her flesh on either side of the nub.

"What do you expect to do to me with those?" she asked bitterly, giving up on controlling the situation, struggling too hard to control herself to even attempt to out-think someone so completely in control.

"Giving up, my young tart? My, what do they teach you at that College these days? What I expect to do to you, fuck-bucket, is this."

She felt one hand cup the plate over her groin and the other lift the chain between her breasts.

She gasped involuntarily as her nipples, her anus, her clitoris and every inch of her vagina inside and out began tingling. It started off feeling like a vague shiver, then grew to something between being covered in ants and being tickled continuously by downy feathers.

It made her nipples and her clitoris instantly harden, swelling to full size shockingly fast.

"Now, I don't really need the metal," he said in a conversational tone of voice as she gasped for breath and shuddered under the tactile assault, "but it's conductive, and so instead of just ripping control away from you, it allows me to have much more fun by doing this."

She arched in her bonds as the tickling became multiple tongues, rubbing her nipples and clitoris, stroking up and down her lips and swirling around her arsehole and over the entire inner surface of her vagina.

"That's it, tart, moan for the cameras."

She squeezed her eyes and her lips even tighter shut, struggling mentally as her body responded sexually, breasts swelling and vagina tightening and adding its own lubrication.

"You really are responsive, aren't you? You'll be a fun toy to have around. I may keep you for a few years. At least the College has made you fit and flexible."

Years? No! She tried to snatch back control of her body, but she couldn't escape his touch over the metal conductors glued to her skin, she couldn't battle what he was doing to her and she just didn't have the experience to avoid the way her body was reacting.

The sensations assaulting her grew until she shivered involuntarily, a gasp forced from her, tapering off into a despairing moan of "Nooooo ..."

"Ah, the lips say 'No,' but the engorged pussy and erect nipples say 'Oh god, yes please, fuck me harder!' Who am I to ignore a request like that from such a succulent, supine supplicant?"

Her nipples and clitoris felt as though there was a mouth attached to each, sucking hard. Her body twisted, trying to lift her breasts and her hips up towards the invisible lips and tongues. A wail of mingled dismay and ecstasy was torn from her and the pressure inside her groin became not just irresistible but agonising.

Then she felt the dildo inside her began impossibly pulsing, pumping in and out and twisting around, nodules suddenly appearing and rubbing over and around her walls, and her hips violently jerked to meet it, her lust-crazed body trying desperately to fuck a cock that was not even physically fucking her.

"The thing I love so much about teenagers," he said cheerfully through the fog of her arousal and the depths of her humiliation, "is how easy you are. Your ripe young bodies are just so virile, sensitive and reactive, I hardly have to do anything and you're begging me to violate you and take control of every one of your nerve endings.

"Just cum when you want to submit to me, slut."

The sensations on her nipples and clitoris changed to multiple tongues swirling and rubbing and pressing, while the stationary dildo inside her felt as though it was driving in and out of her harder and faster and, sobbing helplessly, she started cumming.

"Did I hear a 'Yes, please, make me your sex-puppet!'? I think I did!"

She felt a massive psychic jolt, a wrench through her whole body, in every muscle, every nerve ending, a violent heave that seemed to catapult her out of her body while trapping her inside it.

It felt like and unlike the most explosive orgasm of her life, but while her body continued to orgasm, her mind lost the ability to control her eyelids.

"That was almost too easy."

The stimulation suddenly stopped, her flesh cruelly abandoned and left sweaty, heaving and aching for more.

Her body slumped, rapid and continuous orgasms falling into nothing, but she had no control over it. She tried to turn her head, even to blink, but nothing responded.

From within the prison of her own body she heard him move away. The light above her suddenly dimmed, lights elsewhere came up, and slowly a bare concrete room came into view while spots danced on the edges of her vision.

"Blink, swallow and breath as you need to," he said.

Suddenly her eyes blinked rapidly, clearing away tears that had built up while her head was turned to the side, and she heaved in a breath she hadn't realised she needed.

When her vision cleared, she saw, off-centre but unable to focus on it, a camera with a blinking red light on it. He had not been lying.

She felt the bonds at her wrists and ankles release, and her limbs contracted slightly, aching from the continuous stretch. But she could not move them to relieve the agony.

"Sit up."

Her body robotically but competently brought its legs together, folded its arms down and sat upright on the table.

"Here's how it works. Your body is now slave to me. It will do what I tell it. Anything much beyond your heart beating needs permission from me, which is why I had to tell you to blink and breathe.

"You're now my puppet."

The relish he used in that last sentence made her cringe deep inside her mind.

"Sit on the edge."

She threw everything she had into taking back control of her muscles, but none of it made any difference at all as she swivelled sideways, slid forwards and folded her knees over the edge of the table.

She was expecting to feel disembodied, but she felt every sensation from her skin and the view from her eyes and the sounds from her ears were the same as they always were. It made the situation, if possible, even more horrible - she wasn't watching her body at one remove, she was intimately involved in everything it was forced to do.

"Look at me."

He was dressed in simple black pants and a T-shirt that moulded over a solid, chiselled chest and meaty arms, with a leather executioner's hood that left his eyes in shadow and had no opening for his mouth, sound escaping out the loose bottom edge. There was no insignia, and no usual Villain style or attempt at flamboyance, which bothered the part of her brain that was still functioning.

"Spread your legs and masturbate to orgasm, it'll make good television later."

Her body obediently spread her legs at 90 degrees, making her shuffle forwards on the table, and dipped both hands between them.

She was so sensitive her body shuddered as soon as her fingers slid over her still hard clit.

To her horror, her hands, instead of doing basic, mechanical masturbation, began using her techniques. Was his control over part of her brain, not her body? Or was her body simply remembering habits?

"Ooh, you're a nasty one!" he said with gleeful appreciation in his voice as she slid two fingers into her still sopping cunt while using her upper arms and her shoulders to squeeze her breasts together and massaging her clit with the sides of two fingers holding her lips apart. "You've practised that a lot, I see. I'm not surprised, from the way your body responded so very well. You're a whore, aren't you? I bet you make yourself cum three times a day if you can't get someone else to do it for you."

Kimberley, who had enjoyed two short-term boyfriends but only three times had one-night stands, wailed in the silence of her head.

She was soon shuddering, her face flushed and sweating once more, as her over-sensitive cunt pushed her rapidly back to the edge and, unbidden, she pushed a third finger inside herself.

"You know, I think you could look even sluttier. How about going into a full split?"

Her legs, shuddering from the almost painful stimulation she was giving herself, straightened and bent backwards as she seamlessly moved into a complete 180-degree splits, rolling her hips forward to hold it, which crushed her cunt onto the hand fingering her, sparking a quake that shook her torso violently. She felt the white fog descending again, and her fingers began rubbing her clit faster.

"Oh, I knew there was something I forgot! Vocalise at will, slut."

A dam was released. "Oh, god, yes, yes, OH, fuck yes, oh ..."

She twisted her hyper-flexible shoulders until she could press her elbows into the sides of her breasts, squeezing them harder together, three fingers jammed as far inside her as she could get them and leaning her full weight on them, the fingers rubbing her clit squeezing it frantically but not, she didn't even notice herself, at her power speed.

"I almost forgot: Don't fall over when you cum."

"What? No!" She could barely walk after cumming, staying balanced in that position was beyond her.

The realisation she had been in control of her voice, and sounding like the sex-crazed slut he wanted her to be, hit her at the same time as her orgasm.

"AAAAAAAH!" Her head jerked backwards as her torso shook violently, her hips twisting hard enough to jolt her spine and her legs, stretched to 180 degrees but not as far as she could go, jerking nearly hard enough to lift her off the table.

Her body, still under his control, did not fall over.

"You ..." she gasped, when the quakes subsided. "You ... you ..."

"And, stop talking."

Her mouth closed. Not clamping shut or choking her, just no longer talking.

He knelt down in front of her. "Tsk, you can't move your face and I can still tell you're glaring at me. Look at me, performing like a $2 whore, sitting on your fingers and still grabbing your clit.

"Pull your fingers out and lick all of them clean."

Her body did not remember her aversion to her own fluids, and she did not retch at the taste and the feel as she thoroughly cleaned her own fingers as though she was lubricating a cock.

He leaned forwards, getting close enough she could see his eyes inside the hood for the first time. "Be very, very thankful, little fuck-puppet, I am not allowed to fuck you this time. You're as delicious a naive little sperm sponge it's ever been my considerable pleasure to introduce to her inner helpless slut."

He stood up and stepped backwards, while she struggled with the phrase "not allowed."

He held up his hand, making a "turn-around" motion with his index finger. "Now stand up, turn around and walk out the door before I decide to break my promise and make you suck me 'til you swallow."

What the fuck? Her mind struggled to work out what had just happened as her body, weakly, obeyed him.

When she stepped out the door, control returned to her.

Her legs went limp while she was stepping forwards, pitching her towards the ground. She realised she had control again a second before she sprawled on her face, and managed a graceless save that jarred both her wrists.

She finally vomited, not noticing that she was in a circular room with 20 doors off it, or that her classmates had come through 13 of them, stumbling, collapsing or, in one case, landing full-length, cracking his nose on the floor, while in the middle of the room Tornado stood and watched them with contempt on his face.

"Stand in a circle!"

14 naked parahumans, all showing the signs of sexual exertion, all showing varying degrees of shame and humiliation, some with heads lowered, shuffled into a circle, all trying to keep as far away from their comrades as they could.

"Pick your feet up! Posture! Close ranks!"

Heads snapped up, frightened students remembered how to stand and walk properly, and, staring resolutely between their comrades on the opposite side of the circle, stepped inwards without anybody not being precisely halfway between the student on either side of them.

"Shoulder to shoulder!" Tornado barked.

They did so, as faces flushed scarlet and postures became rigid.

"There are many routes to mind control!" Tornado lectured as he prowled around the middle of the ring of students. "At least 14! You have all just spent time with a different practitioner, using different techniques. Some of them, as you would have discovered, not affecting your free will at all. Some of them coercing, some of them traditional mind-control techniques.

"Some of the practitioners are members of staff here on campus. Some are outside consultants. Two of them," he paused, "are Villains here under strict monitoring and security.

"We will be reviewing all your tapes. You will be graded. You will continue!" he shouted, "continue to be abducted, at unexpected times, until you pass! Preventing abduction is part of the assessment! Turning the tables on your captor is a pass!"

Kimberly went weak at the knees with dread. She couldn't help herself looking around, seeing the same helpless dread in the eyes of her fellow students. Only Stacey and Alex looked grimly determined.

"Do not think you can avoid this, do not think you can escape campus, do not think you can do anything except fight by our rules, unless you want to be denied accreditation and put on the Villain list. None of you would survive a week, let me assure you.

"I suggest you ATTEND CLASSES and read ALL SET TEXTS!"

Kimberley and Megan both jumped, cringing with shame before, panicked, straightening their postures again a split second before his gaze raked over them both.

Two of the girls and one of the boys started sobbing, quietly.

"Dismissed! Showers! If you have any complaints, feel free to realise how stupid they are."